Tortall's Flock
by Dozey212
Summary: Daine and Numair set off following reports of a Human Stormwing Who Is People from the animals, and find the Flock who were made by an evil mage. D/N. Faxness. Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I disclaim the characters and setting.

**A/N: **I've noticed there are not many Maximum Ride cross Tortall stories. Well, I'm going to change that because I'm obsessed with both of them.  
I'll try to write as in character as I can. I just re read this from the beginning, and it gets better trust me. More in character with longer chapters. Hope you decide to stick with this story.

**Note:** In this story, the Flock have never been to 'our world'. Now, I know that sounds crazy, but they weren't made by crazy, whack-job scientists – they were made by crazy whack-job mages.  
Understand? Hopefully you do.  
Yes, well, anyway, the Flock's characters and characteristics are all the same, well, meant to. My writing may stuff em up a bit.  
Max and the Flock still need to save the world, they have the same powers.

**Reviews and flames are invited, **

**Enjoy,**

**Over and Out,  
Dozey212.**

****

Numair frowned enviously at his wife, who was riding on Cloud, as if she were born in the saddle, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world, being on a horse. His horse, Spots, was used to his riders unco-ordination in the saddle, and was trying his best to help Numair along. It didn't help, though. Numair would rather be at home, in his tower, reading a good book or be on the couch in front of a warm fire cuddling with Daine then out in the cold on an uncomfortable horse.

"Don't look so glum, Numair," Daine said. She beamed at him and he felt his mouth respond to her smile without meaning to.

"Only you could be so comfortable on a horse, out in the cold, in the middle of winter," he said rather glumly. "I, however, being a sensible person, would rather be indoors in front of the hearth with a good, big, fire blazing."

Daine laughed at him. "I'll just have to warm you up tonight, won't I?" she teased. Numair blushed.

"Have you heard anything from the People?" he asked instead of responding to her teases. Lately the People had been coming from all over the Realm to see Daine with strange reports of Stormwings who were People. Daine had been anxious to see what was going on, and King Jonathon had approved her wishes to investigate this new oddity.

Daine's forehead creased in worry. "Yes, but its all much the same as before. Stormwings who are People. I have never heard of something like this before. I'm worried," she said, turning to look at Numair. "Have you found anything in all your books?"

Numair sighed. "No, Magelet. Sorry, but there's nothing of the sort mentioned anywhere. I can't even find myths or legends that mention anything like this. I've looked everywhere I can think of, but I haven't found anything."

It was getting dark now so the pair found a clearing with a stream nearby to set up camp for the night. Numair set out their tent and bedroll, before warding the camp. Daine rubbed down Cloud, Spots and Mangle while Numair made them both an evening meal and set up the fire. Once she was done, Daine went and sat down beside the fire to watch him work. He put the stew over the fire to cook and sat down beside his wife. She scooted over so her head rested on his shoulder; he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent from her hair and sighed contently.

"I love you, Daine," he murmured. "My wife," he added in a whisper.

"I will never tire of hearing you call me that," she said. "Not ever."

"And I will never tire of calling you that, sweet," was his response.

Two days later they arrived at their destination – an out of the way piece of forest that was deserted apart from animals. Superstitious folk believed it to be haunted, and since they were the only village near the forest, they stuck to their beliefs and never entered. Upon hearing Numair and Daine's destination, they tried to warn the folk of the terrible creatures that dwelled there. The pair was not to be swayed though, and set off into the forest at first light the next day. The horses stayed behind at the village since the forest was much to thick for them to make passage.

"Shh, Numair," Daine called to her husband as they trudged through the undergrowth. Numair wasn't offended at her shushing him – it happened often, most of the time when he was in the middle of explaining something related to history or magic. Sometimes, when the People were talking intently to Daine and she needed to concentrate on them, she would shush him. He immediately cut off his sentence and stopped walking, since she had too.

Daine concentrated hard on what the hawk was telling her. When it was done reporting what it had seen, it flew off and Daine turned to Numair. Seeing his puzzled, concerned and loved filled expression, she sighed and told him what she'd heard from the hawk. "She said she was flying, looking for food for her nestlings when she saw the People-Stormwings flying overhead. She flew closer, but not to close, to get a closer look. She says their wings are feathers, not metal, and they smelt like the forest, not like how normal Stormwings smell. She said a male started to fly towards her so she flew back to her nestlings with the rabbit she had caught. According to the hawk, they didn't have sharp metal teeth like Stormwings, they looked completely like a Two-Legger, oh, sorry, a human."

"That almost sounds like a . . . a human bird?" Numair asked, frowning. "I don't think that's possible. With our cells having . . ." Daine tuned out the rest of his lecture. Instead of listening, she heaved her pack higher onto her shoulders, and set off into the forest again. Numair, still deep in his one-person discussion, followed suit.

Around midday, they stopped and ate a light lunch. They set off again, knowing they could only go so much further without returning to the village again.

When Numair said, "We'd cover so much distance if it weren't for this dratted forest," Daine stopped and slapped her forehead. They were dolts! Why hadn't she thought of this before?

"Numair, lets go back. We can rest up and head out again tomorrow," she paused, seeing his frown and reached up a hand to smooth it. "We can just fly over, first thing tomorrow. We'd cover much more ground; get a look at the entire forest, and save a lot of time. Besides, we're going to have to turn back soon."

"How very smart you are, Magelet," he said, grinning before bending down to press his lips to hers in a kiss.

She grinned up at him. "Only because I have the best teacher."

"Who might that be?"

"The Badger," she said, and grinning wickedly, leapt out of his arms to race through the forest like a deer back the way they had came. Numair had a moment to envy her agility before he crashed through the forest after her.

Cloud, Spots and Mangle eagerly greeted them upon their return to the small village. Cloud, even though she wouldn't admit it, was pleased to see Daine and the Stork-Man back with them safe. News among the animals had spread about the Stormwing People. They couldn't help but be a little bit worried for the Girl Who Is People when she went looking for this new oddity.

"You really ought to stay away from that forest – its haunted. It's not safe for a lady like you, and the mans a bit old to provide proper protection for you. Whats a pretty little thing like you doing with an old man like him, anyway?" a man from the village said to Daine the next morning when she announced that he shall mind the horses while they went into the forest again.

Numair flushed angrily, and Daine laid a hand on his arm. "I can protect myself well enough. I am a Wildmage. My husband here, Master Salamin, is a highly qualified and powerful Gifted mage. And he is no more older than you, thankyou very much. Now, excuse me," she said politely, and stepped around the man and walked out of the village, hand in hand with Numair.

She looked at her husband. His jaw was clenched – he was angry. She knew comments like that upset him, although they didn't mind her at all. "Numair," she said. He looked at her and she could tell by the fire burning in his eyes that he was very angry from what the man had said to them.

_This will not do_, Daine thought to herself. She stopped and took both of Numair's hands in her own. He looked down at her, expression fathomless. "Numair," she began again. "You really shouldn't let things like that worry you. You are not old in my eyes. I don't care what other people think, and neither should you. I know, and so do you, that you could protect me better than anyone else. You stop me from doing rash things; you help me in more than physical ways. I'd be lost without you," she said, and his expression softened. "We belong together. Nothing will ever change that." She thrust her chin out stubbornly and her eyes flashed as if she were challenging someone to defy her statement.

Numair felt his heart melt. He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, then more roughly and passionately. She was his Magelet, his Daine, his wife, his Wildmage. She was _his._ Eventually, they broke apart, aware that they had things to do today. She straightened her hair and her tunic, which were ruffled after her kisses with Numair.

"C'mon, dolt. We've got business to do yet today," she said, gently whacking his arm. He cleared his throat, took her hand, and set off towards the forest. Once there they both shed their clothes and changed into their preferred bird shape – hers a golden eagle, his a hawk. They had decided not to fly from their camp in the village since the villagers were too superstitious and most definitely would kick up a fuss.

_I hope we find these People Stormwings today,_ Daine thought. _I'm fair tired, though I can't see why. _

Mage and Magelet flew over the dense forest, searching with their sharp birds' eyes. Half and hour later they flew over a clearing. In the clearing stood a mage with maroon fire cracking in the air around him. He was of an average height and stocky build although most of his plump form appeared to be fat instead of muscle. He had red hair and freckles and wore an ensemble of clothes they'd seen in the village – well worn, tattered, comfortable breeches and an old stained, dirt streaked tunic. He stood over a small girl who was curled into a ball on the ground, cringing. She had the dark skin of the Raka from the Copper Isles and wild curly hair, which had twigs and bracken all threw it. She had purple bruises all over her body – some in the shape of hand marks.

Without a word, Daine and Numair dived towards the ground. This was not acceptable. They landed in the trees, which lined the outer edge of the clearing. They were still unnoticed by the mage and the young girl, who seemed to be about fourteen. Looking around, Daine noticed five other children. They all showed the signs of abuse and were as equally ruffled as the girl in front of the mage. None, however, had the same raka skin as the other girl.

"I have told you over and over not go out when I'm gone. You are forbidden to go flying. I will beat you from here to next week, Mithros mark my words I will!" the mage screeched in a deep, gravely voice. It was when he raised his hand up and brang it down on the girl, that Numair leapt from the tree, landed on the ground still in hawk-shape and then shape shifted back human. The man looked at him, stunned, and the little girl took the chance to half crawl, half drag herself over to the other children. A blonde girl, who looked around sixteen, hugged her close as the girl wept on her shoulder.

"What, in Mithros' name, do you think you're doing?" Numair demanded. He seemed not to notice that he was stark naked after being in hawk shape. Daine shape shifted back human, standing beside him on the ground for neutral support. She, too, was stark naked but seemed not to care. "You've beaten her half to death!"

"She's my creation," snarled the man and shook a fist at Numair. "Now get off my land before I turn you into an apple tree."

"What were you doing," Numair said coolly, stepping forward.

"I was punishing my property for disobedience. Now, you've missed your chance. I'll make you an apple tree and take your lady friend for myself. Nice body she has, decent bed warmer," the red haired mage snarled then grinned wickedly. Daine couldn't prevent the shudder that ran down her spine.

Daine, having married Numair and been taught by him for many years, had picked up some of the old, ancient, powerful language that was used now. The man shouted something in Old Thak but before whatever he'd said could take action, Numair had also shouted something in the same powerful language. The air sizzled, cracked, and boomed so loud that Daine thought she had gone deaf. The grubby, bruised children shrank back against trees at the edge of the clearing, whimpering.

The other mage's maroon fire cracked and lashed at Numair. It met a black shield. "Daine, move, get behind me, now!" Numair shouted desperately. She mutely moved behind her love.

More words were exchanged in Old Thak, and before she knew what had happened, Numair was a statue. Before she could scream, however, the rock shattered and Numair was once again wholly human. This latest attack seemed to anger Numair because he shouted something so harsh and powerful sounding that the ground at their feet split. Lightning cracked down and struck his foe, successfully defeating him. As his foe fell dead to the ground, Numair fell also. He, however, was not dead. He was merely unconscious. Daine fell down beside her husband and turned him over in her arms. "Numair! Numair!" she screamed.

"M'okay," he mumbled, momentarily gaining consciousness. "Just, drained, tired, don't leave, Daine," he mumbled before fainting.

"I won't," she murmured, holding his head in her lap. "Not ever."

She called a hawk down do her and had him retrieved her and Numair's clothes. Once she had thanked the hawk for retrieving these vital essentials, she dressed Numair and herself.

The six children sat at the other end of the clearing, still terrified and unable to move from the shock of what had just happened. _I'm still not sure, myself,_ Daine thought to herself. Slowly, however, they edged their way over the fire Daine had built, to warm themselves.

_Who are you?_ A female voice asked Daine. She looked around, trying to find the animal responsible.

_Who's there? _She mind called.

_Me,_ said the eldest blonde girl sitting opposite her on the other side of the fire. _I am People, too._

"You are another Wildmage?" Daine asked out loud in confusion.

"Not a Wildmage. I am animal. I am your wing-sister," she also said out loud. With that, she stood, rolled her neck and then shoulders and extended one fifteen foot tawny, speckled wing. "My name's Max. What's yours, Girl Who Is People?"

Daine's jaw dropped open. She shut it. _All great gods look at that! A human Stormwing who is People,_ she thought. "Daine," she croaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "My name is Daine."

****

Daine sat, staring at the winged children across the fire. They sat, huddled together. The oldest girl, the dirty blonde one – Max – was checking them over for broken bones.

_She reminds me of my Ma,_ Daine thought. _Ma always did those things for me. _Now that Daine had noticed the girls' mother-like qualities, they stood out like a star against the midnight sky. She hugged the younger children, murmured soothing words to them and dried their tears. She kept glancing at Numair. Daine, seeing these glances saw the fear, grief, hope, and anger in her eyes when she looked at the black robe mage.

"He's dead, isn't he, Max?" a little blonde haired boy asked.

"Shh. Yes, he is. We're free now, Gazzy," was her whispered reply. Daine only caught it because she had changed her ears to bats and her eyes to those of a hawk. She didn't know if the mage had another companion nearby.

"Where will we go, Max?" a tall boy with strawberry blonde hair and pale skin asked. Daine looked into his pale blue eyes and realised that they were unseeing. He was blind, and yet he walked around unhesitant. Daine put it down that he knew the clearing exceptionally well.

"The Voice told me to go to see the King, in the capital, Corus. We'll go there. The Voice said Tarloy would die in battle, and he did, today. I think we should listen to what it has to say," Max said.

Daine turned over what she had said in her mind as she stroked Numair's hair – the mage was still unconscious. As far as Daine knew, the Voice was the Voice of the tribes for the Bazhir. But she didn't think these people were Bazhir. Also, the Voice was the King – Jonathan. He was also in Corus at the moment so he could've said for this young girl to go see him but Daine couldn't make sense of it. The girl, Max, also hadn't sat by the fire when she conversed with the Voice, the King. Daine knew that if a Bazhir wanted to talk to their Voice, they did so by fire, in the evenings.

Numair groaned and tried to sit up. "Shh, don't sit up," Daine whispered, still stroking his hair. "You've had a serious draining," she added once her love opened his eyes. He tried to say something, failed, tried to clear his throat then tried again to talk. "Drink," Daine ordered, holding a water flask to his lips. He gulped it down in two sips. Daine reached over and retrieved the second one for him to drink from. Once that was done, he cleared his throat and asked, "Are you okay? What happened to the other mage?"

Daine shuddered, remembering the sound of the word and what had happened when Numair had fought the marron-gifted mage before. "He is quite dead. I'm fine," she said. Seeing his dubious look she added, "Really," and bent down to lightly kiss his lips.

"Who are you?" Max demanded, staring at Numair. "You are not People. Your dangerous – you killed Tarloy."

"Numair Salamin," Numair sighed, sitting up. "Of course I'm not People. I won't hurt you," he said. He looked Max over, clenched his jaw and hissed, "Not like that mage did," through his teeth.

Max, standing in front of them but out of reach, folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah," she said dryly. "You're a mage. All mages are trouble."

"Not all," Numair said. "I won't hurt you, either. I'm not like him." He jerked his head towards the mage who was lying at the side of the clearing, as far away from them as possible.

"You're a mage. You're dangerous. Dangerous to me. Dangerous to my flock. Don't try to deny it," she said.

"Your flock?" Numair asked, confusion evident in his deep voice. Max's face closed down. She stared at Numair. "What?" he asked.

"You're a mage. You cannot find out, or you will hurt us," she said. The other children, who had drifted closer as the conversation commenced, nodded their own agreement.

"Daine," Numair whispered. "What's going on?"

Daine glanced at the winged human Stormwings who were People. She bit her lip, thinking. "Numair, I – I," she stuttered, still unsure of what to do. They were part People and had put their trust in her – she could not betray that. Numair trusted her, too, and wanted to know what was going on. He wasn't like the other mage. He wouldn't hurt them. "I can't say. They're part People, I can't betray their trust. I'm so sorry," she finally said. She looked at him, pleading for him to understand.

Numair nodded then sighed. "Wildmages?" he whispered in her ear. The children looked at him intently. Daine shook her head.

"You can tell him, he wont hurt or betray you," she told them. "I trust him with my whole being. He wouldn't hurt anyone – human or any of the People."

"He likes knowledge, doesn't he?" Max shot back, quick as lightening, staring at Daine, although they conversed about Numair.

Daine sighed. "Extremely so," she said.

"Just how I expected. Imagine what he would do if he got his hands on us. Imagine how he would try to 'learn' from us," she said. "Exactly like Tarloy did."

Daine was already shaking her head before she'd finished talking. "No, never like Tarloy. He'd ask some questions, that's all. He'd watch you fly, not do experiments on you," she said.

"Fly. Experiments. Ask questions. Information. What in Mithros' name is going on here?" Numair demanded.

Daine looked to Max pleadingly. "You can trust him, Max." Max shook her head vigorously. "Do you trust me, wing-sister?" Daine asked. Max nodded. "Do you trust my judgement?" Max hesitated, then nodded again. "Do you believe me when I say this mage will not hurt you in any way?"

Max hesitated. She glanced at her Flock. They all stared at her. "Angel?" Max finally asked.

"Yes?" the small, cute, blonde girl said.

"Can we believe her? Will he hurt us?" Max asked.

"We can trust her. We can trust him, too. He is very confused and wants to know whats going on. He's catching on anyway, seeming how we called her our wing-sister and about how we are part People. We should tell them," Angel said, blue eyes wide and innocent.

Max sighed. She turned to Daine and Numair who were still sitting before her. She looked at Daine long and hard, her gaze thoughtful. When it shifted to Numair it turned calculating. "Alright. If he takes it the wrong way, he's drained so we could easily take him out," she said. She sat down and the Flock followed her. "Okay. So. You want to know it all?"

"Yes, thankyou, Max," Daine said. Numair put his arm around Daine, hugging her too him and nodded mutely.

"We are Tarloy's experiments. He was an extremely powerful mage. He made us by grafting animal cells into our cells when we were but babes. He said he was doing it in the name of Mithros and the Goddess and said that if we objected or killed him, we'd be damned for all eternity. He made other experiments, too, but they were all sorry creatures and we were the only ones to survive past infanthood. We are part bird, thus part People and part human. We're genetic freaks. Any mage in the world would want to learn from us, Tarloy said so himself. He told us he would be famous, would lead the world into the next age. He was stark raving mad," Max said. "We don't trust. You can't make us stay with you. We're free. You wont take us to 'learn' from. We will never be captives again," she set her jaw stubbornly and added, "Never, ever, again."

Numair and Daine sat there, mouths hanging open in shock at this latest revelation.

Daine and Numair travelled with the bird children on the way to Corus. The bird children would only turn up to sleep the night with the two mages and for food. Other than that, Daine and Numair were left alone with Cloud, Spots and Mangle for a quiet journey to the palace. The children flew in the air high above them.

Daine heard the warning calls from the People and murmured under her breathe to Numair, "Someone's here."

"Who?" Numair asked as his black Gift appeared around his hands.

Suddenly, a group of bandits jumped out from the bushes surrounding the road. Daine instantly had bow and arrow in her hands, shooting their foe. Numair summoned his magic and shot it at the hill bandits.

There were only ten bandits left. Just as Daine was loading her bow with another arrow, ready to shoot the lead male, he shot at Numair. Numair had his shield up so Daine wasn't to worried. They always tried to kill the mage first, and they always hit Numair's strong shield. Daine saw the arrow out of the corner of her eye and gasped in horror. It was a Stormwing fletched arrow, a mage killer. It raced straight at Numair, breaking through his shield. Numair cried out as the arrow hit, but still managed to shot down his attacker with a bolt of black fire.

Six thumps announced the Flocks arrival. Daine hardly noticed. She raced to Numair, praying he was all right. Thankfully, Spots had reared when the Stormwing arrow was shot so Numair hadn't received an instant death. Instead, the arrow had imbedded itself in his tan arm. Daine looked around frantically, remembering the bandits.

"We've got them," Max called as she kicked a bandit.

Daine nodded, not realising that the other girl was engaged in battle and unable to pay attention to her response. She spun around to Numair and broke the arrow shaft off, and cut strips out of her tunic to stop the bleeding.

Once that was done, she came to her senses and picked her bow up off the ground, ready to shoot some bandits. Max, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Fang and tiny little Angel were just kids. What was she thinking, leaving them to deal with the bandits alone? They were probably dead.

"Hey, hey, don't shoot," Nudge said, holding up her hands when Daine swung around towards them with her bow raised and ready.

Daine lowered her bow, stunned. All the bandits were dead. They had killed nine bandits on their own. _How?_ Daine wondered. _They don't have any weapons. _

"What happened?" Daine asked.

Nudge shrugged. "Killed 'em," she said bluntly.

"How long until we reach Corus?" Max asked, looking at Numair.

Daine bit her lip, also staring at her beloved. "We would've been there by nightfall, but with Numair shot we'll have to go slower but by then the blood loss . . ." her voice trailed off as she stared at the bird children in horror. "Oh no. No, no, no."

Max, sensing Daine's distress through their connection they shared because of their links to the People, walked over and laid a hand on her arm. "What can we do?"

"He needs to get there, _now_," Daine choked out and then started sobbing. Numair swayed in the saddle, groaning and she caught him and helped him stay seated.

"We'll take him," Iggy said, stepping forward.

Daine looked at him blankly, still sobbing. "What?"

"We'll fly with him to Corus," he said. Max glared at him but being blind, he didn't see it and continued on, "We could be there in half an hour."

Daine still sobbing nodded weakly.

"Iggy!" Max hissed at him. "What are you doing?"

"Max, he's dying," Angel said. Her and Gazzy stared at Max with wide, blue eyes. "We have to do something."

Max looked at Numair, groaning in his saddle, supported by Daine who was still sobbing and trying to stop the bleeding. She sighed. "Fine. We'll go now."

"How?" Daine chocked out.

"We'll fly," Max snapped at her.

"No, well, yes, but how will you get him in the air?" Daine asked, clutching onto this little piece of hope with everything she had. She'd do anything to stop Numair from dying.

"I'll take his arms, Fang'll take is legs. We'll manage," she said.

"I'm coming with you," Daine said as she helped Fang get Numair out of the saddle.

"We can't carry you both," Iggy said.

"But she can fly, too," Nudge chirped.

"Okay, Fang, you get his legs. Angel, lift his middle 'till we get in the air. I've got his arms," Max said.

Daine turned to the three horses. _I have to go. Can you make it to Corus? I'll come get you as soon as I can, _Daine mind-spoke the animals.

_Yes,_ Cloud said. _Hurry or your Stork-Man will be not-breath. _

_I wont let him die, _Daine thought to the horses as much as herself as she hurriedly tugged off her clothes.

"Oh, he's _heavy_," Max said as she lifted Numair into the air with Fang's help. "Really heavy."

"Too heavy for you?" Fang asked, grinning crookedly at her as they continued to rise.

"No," she said, scowling. Daine turned into a raven and rose into the air after them.

Daine had to fly fast to keep up with the bird kids. They had bigger, stronger wings then her and with every beat of their wings, Daine had to do three to keep up. She decided it was much to hard and changed shape into an Albatross's. She was now large enough to keep up, her wings being as big as young Angel's.

Daine grew more worried by the minute. Numair had stopped groaning now, but his jaw was clenched hard. He had turned a sickly, pale grey colour. Daine prayed to every god that she could think of that they'd make it to the palace in time. Corus grew bigger with every flap of her wings.

"Where do we land?" Max called out to the giant bird flying with her Flock. "Lead the way."

The Albatross Daine flew in an arc, heading straight for the grand double doors of the palace. When she saw the guard on the wall pull out a bow and arrow, aiming at the bird kids, Daine changed her voice box to a humans and called out, "Nathaniel, don't shoot. It's me, Daine. They're not Stormwings. Get Duke Baird, Numair was shot by an arrow."

The guard looked a little shocked, but called out to a page all the same. Daine led the flock around until they were in the first landing space available – the training yards. No one was in the archery range so they all landed there. Daine, who had grabbed a dress of a clothesline from the Lower City, disappeared behind a bush and reemerged in a human form.

"Can you go get Duke Baird? Please?" Daine asked a palace cat. It yowled before sprinting off.

"What now?" Max asked, laying Numair on the ground.

"Duke Baird, the palace healer will come and fix Numair," she said. She knelt down next to her husband and stroked his sweat sleek hair back from his face. "Numair, Numair, it's all right. You're going to be fine," she murmured to him, tears trickling down her cheeks, leaving stripes in her mud-streaked face.


	2. Chapter 2

Daine sat in the infirmary, anxiously watching Duke Baird heal Numair. The mage was sound asleep, hand placed firmly in Daine's. Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel all had stayed in the training yards, refusing to go into the palace since their were so many mages about.

Duke Baird straightened up with a sigh. Daine looked at him expectantly. "He'll be fine. He just needs to rest up and sleep a bit."

Daine sighed in relief. "Thankyou so much," she said sincerely.

"No problem. It's my job to heal after all," he smiled fondly at her. His face became sombre when he said, "If he had gotten here any later, though, I probably wouldn't have been able to save him." He instantly regretted mentioning it because Daine's face became troubled again and her already puffy red eyes glazed over with more unshed tears. "It's all right, Daine," he said softly. "Numair's fine. I've healed the break and mended the muscle tissue." She nodded and turned to stroke the Numair's forehead with the back of her hand.

"I'll be back later to check up on him," Duke Baird called back over his shoulder as he left the couple.

Heavy panting and running footsteps made Daine look up not long after the healer had left. "His Majesty wishes to see you," panted a third year page. "Right away. He said it was important."

Daine frowned. She didn't want to leave Numair. But she couldn't turn down the King's request, especially if he wanted to see her quickly and deemed the matter important. Sighing, she got up from the chair she sat in beside Numair's bed, laid the mage's hand gently down on the bed by his side and kissed his forehead before turning to follow the page.

"Daine, take a seat," King Jonathan said, indicating a chair. Daine sat. "So, would you like to explain what happened? I know you were attacked by bandits but I'm curious as to who these young people are in my training yard."

King Jonathan and Queen Thayet were quiet after Daine finished telling them what had transpired in the last week. They both had thoughtful, yet troubled, faces. "I am displeased that we never knew of this foul mage before," the King said at last. "He must've been extremely powerful to give Numair a run for his money."

"So these children are the human Stormwings who are People you set out to find?" Thayet said. "That is very interesting."

"Yes. They are very . . ." Daine paused, searching for the right word. "I was going to say timid, but they aren't. They're protective of each other, untrusting and extremely fearful of mages, although they hide it behind anger," she finally settled with.

"Well that's understandably, considering all they've been through," Thayet said.

"I would like to speak with them," Jonathan mused. "They sound spectacular. You said they finished of nine bandits who were armed with no weapons themselves?" he asked Daine.

"Yes. I was preoccupied at the time," she smiled thinly. "But now I do remember them taking the bandits down unarmed."

"Remarkable. Are they Shang warriors?" Jonathan asked. Then he answered himself, "No, that can't be possible, only if the mage was Shang which is impossible since they don't accept Gifted students."

"I still wonder where they learnt it," Thayet said.

"Well, lets ask them," Jonathan said, beckoning over a servant. "You will find six children in the training yards. Please bring them here. If they refuse, tell them I ordered them to come," he told the servant before the man nodded and hurried out the door.

The servant came hurrying back with the six children walked behind him. He kept sending them fearful glances – obliviously news had gone around that six unnatural winged children had flown to the palace with Numair Salamin wounded in their arms, accompanied by the Wildmage.

"I am King Jonathan, this is Queen Thayet," Jonathan said once they were seated beside Daine. "What would your names be?"

The children shared significant glances. Max and Fang glanced at the window behind King Jonathan. "I'm Maximum, this is Fang, Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman and Angel," she said pointing to each of her flock in turn before bowing to the monarchs.

"You do not have a proper name?" Thayet enquired.

"Tarloy always said that if we were to be asked that, we were to say we were his. I disagreed and picked a name myself for my flock and I. We are of the Sky. Maximum of the Sky," Max said.

Thayet smiled while Jon raised a raven black eyebrow. "Is that so?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, sire," Max said. "No one and nothing will change that."

Jonathan barked a laugh. "I would like to hear your story first hand, Maximum of the Sky."

"Please, just Max," she said. She looked at Fang, hesitating. He nodded slightly.

Daine and their Majesties listened closely to their tale. Although she had already heard it, Daine was still mesmerised. When King Jonathan summoned his gift to detect if they were lying, the children nearly fled. Only Daine's reassurance convinced them to stay – that as well as they didn't want to offend the realms monarchs.

"It must be a sight to see," Thayet said. When she saw everyone's puzzled glances she explained, "Their flying."

"How did you kill the bandits?" Jonathan asked, staring intently at the children before him.

Max looked at him blankly.

_Tell him, Max,_ Daine mind-spoke to her. Max stared at Daine before sighing and turning to Jonathan and Thayet. "I wouldn't tell you, but since you're the realms rulers I must. We," she said, gesturing towards her flock. "Have enhanced abilities. We can outrun any human, we are almost stronger than anyone else, even Angel. We have other gifts, as well. Not magic gifts, but abilities. We keep evolving."

"Other abilities like what?" demanded Jonathan.

"I can breathe underwater and fly super fast. Fang can turn invisible and breathe underwater. Nudge can sense people's emotions on the things they've touched and attract metal objects to herself. Iggy can summon fire and can sense colours. Gazzy can knock anyone out with his, erm, gas. Angel can read peoples minds, control them, breathe underwater, change shape partially, talk to sea animals and gauge peoples emotions," Max said.

"Do you have some sort of gift?" Thayet asked.

"No, Tarloy tested us frequently. We don't know what it is," Max said. So far the others hadn't said a word.

"How did you learn to fight?"

"Tarloy taught us what he knew and we taught ourselves the rest. He also controlled a Shang warrior into teaching us then erased him memory."

"What will you do now?" Thayet asked.

"The Voice told me to come here, to see the King – you," came Max's reply. Daine, Thayet and Jonathan could all see from her expressionless face that she didn't like telling them about herself and her flock, whatever the reasons.

"I never asked you to come here," Jonathan said.

"You're the Voice?" Max asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I am the Voice of the Bazhir desert tribes. I haven't ever talked to you before and it highly unlikely that you are Bazhir, even," he said.

"You don't sound like the Voice," Max said.

"When do you hear the Voice?" Thayet asked.

"Whenever. It speaks in my head. The others can't hear it. It tells me what to do, whats going to happen."

"It isn't me," King Jonathan said firmly.

"Wait a second, please," Max said with an intense look of concentration on her face. Finally, she sighed. "It said it is not the Voice of the Bazhir tribes. It said it doesn't call itself the Voice, I only gave it that name. It says it is here in the palace, that I will find it eventually."

"In the palace?" Jonathan murmured. His brow creased.

"Where will you be staying?" Thayet asked as her husband thought. The flock all looked to Max, something no one in the room missed. "You could stay here in the Palace," Thayet offered.

"Yes, they will stay here. If they go into the City, they will alarm the people there and havoc will break loose. No doubts the Rogue will try something, too," Jonathan said.

Max and the Flock were all silent for a long time. "Angels says we can trust you so we'll stay."

"Very well," Jonathan said. "Daine I presume you will be going to the infirmary?"

"Yes," Daine said.

"Please escort Max and her flock there for an overlook and healing from Duke Baird."

"Of course," she said. She stood, bowed and then walked out the doors back towards her husband.

"Daine," Numair murmured, feeling his wives hand stroking the hair back from his face. Her other hand gave his hand a firm reassuring squeeze as she said; "I'm here."

"Never will I go flying again as a human," he said, peeling open his heavy eyelids. "Never."

Daine laughed, relieved to see his eyes open again. Although Duke Baird had promised her Numair's health, she was still worried when he slept. Numair happily returned her loving kiss when she bent down to press her lips to his. "Ah, sweet," Numair sighed. "What happened? I've fair forgotten most of it."

"The flock handled the bandits while looked after you. Then Iggy suggested they fly you to the palace, because you'd die of blood loss if you didn't get there quick enough," Numair squeezed his wife's hand when a shudder ran through her body as she thought of the possibility of his death. "Max and Fang carried you. I flew as an Albatross. We landed in the training yards which were empty, thankfully. Then Duke Baird partially healed you out there before you were carried inside to be healed fully. Jon and Thayet have already seen me and the Flock about what happened. When you're better your to see him as well."

"Where'd they go?" Numair asked. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained, "The Flock."

"They went out to watch the pages train. They're like cornered cats here in the palace," Daine said.

"Okay," Numair said. They lapsed into an easy silence, Daine still stroking his hair. He smiled, enjoying the feeling. "Did you know," he said unexpectedly. "That the ladies at court used to stroke my hair like this. They pampered their hands with all sorts of creams and lotions but nothing compares to how soft your callused, hard working hands feel. Strange, isn't it? It's not even logical that your harder hands are softer then theirs."

Daine gave him a small smile. "Yes. I suppose so," she said.

Numair, seeing her expression sighed. "Daine," he whispered. "They're nothing compared to you. None of them made this everlasting impression on me like you do. I love you, Magelet."

"I know," she said, giving him a peck. "And I love you, Master Mage."

"Miss," a voice called as a young boy ran up the isle between beds in the infirmary towards Daine. Numair sent him a cool look. "Ah, Mrs. Salamin," he amended. "You're needed in the training yards."

"Why?" Daine asked.

"Ah, well, the – the children, they are, well, challenging the Shang Wildcat. They insist they touch up on their skills, when really, they don't have any and the training master said you would relate to them, convince them."

Numair groaned. "I'll come with you, Magelet," he said.

"You should stay and rest," Daine stressed, stranding up.

"I'm coming," he said firmly, also standing. The world spun before Numair's eyes and he fell back onto the bed again. Luckily he was still in his breeches but someone – probably Daine – had removed his blood stained tunic and dressed him in another clean one. That saved changing clothes. He stood again and managed to remain upright, although the room still spun dangerously. Daine sighed and helped to support him. Together, with the page, they made their way out of the infirmary and towards the training yards.

When they got there, Max and her flock were standing facing Lord Wyldon and the Shang Wildcat. The third year pages stood around, watching what was going on with wide excited eyes.

"You cannot challenge a Shang without Shang combat skills," Lord Wyldon was saying briskly as Mage and Magelet walked towards them.

"But we have Shang combat skills. We'd be as good as her," Iggy said, pointing towards the Shang Wildcat. "Maybe even better."

"What's going on?" Daine called out, striding towards the conflict.

"We just want to learn some more, compare skills, touch up on our combat training, but he," Max said, gesturing towards Lord Wyldon, "Won't let us."

"I don't think your Shang," the Wildcat said, eyes roaming over the bird children.

_Max, _Daine mind-spoke the leader of the flock, _The Wildcat is exceptionally good in combat. This wont be like handling a couple of hill bandits. _

_Exactly my point. The bandits I could've dealt with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back. And this won't be a fight to the death. It would be like training, comparing skills, _Max replied, also mind-speaking.

"Except you'll get hurt," Daine exclaimed out loud, throwing her hands in the air.

"What?" Lord Wyldon asked.

"I have a connection to Max and her flock. Like with the People, err, the animals," Daine explained. "I forgot to mind-speak," she added with a self-conscious blush.

"We won't get hurt. I told you we have enhanced abilities," Max said.

"Is that so?" the Wildcat asked, raising an arched eyebrow. "Well then," she murmured and swung around with a roundhouse kick unexpectedly. Max caught her leg. "Yes," Max said coolly.

"Stop it, NOW!" Lord Wyldon roared. He turned towards the Shang Wildcat. "I assumed you'd have the common sense not to engage a sixteen year old girl in Shang combat! It seems I am mistaken," he snarled.

The Shang Wildcat looked at him. "You think I would've hit her? It was a test."

"Now will you let us?" Iggy demanded, exasperated.

"No," Wyldon snarled. "Yes," Max said. The Wildcat looked thoughtful.

"If we promise not to break you?" Max said.

The Wildcat grinned. "I don't think you'll be able to. Who trained you, if what you're saying is true?"

"The mage who made us used magic on a Shang to get him to train us. Then he erased the man's memory. I don't know his name," Max explained.

"Lord Wyldon?" the Wildcat asked. "Can we begin? I won't hurt them. You can call it off whenever you like, if you see a need."

"We are meant to be training the pages," he stated.

"And this will be very educational for them," Max said. She looked Wyldon up and down. "And – most definitely – you, as well." With that she turned and walked away from the little group with the flock at her heels.

Numair, who had been silent the whole time, told Lord Wyldon, "I'll stop it if it gets out of hand, My Lord."

"Very well," Lord Wyldon said. He turned and walked off, yelling at pages to stop standing there like stunned mullets, and telling them to stand outside the training yard. They all found seats on or against the wooden fence.

"You shouldn't, Numair," Daine said as she helped her weak love off the field as well. "You're drained."

"And my magic restores itself quickly, Magelet," Numair answered, trying not to lean on her small form too much. "I have enough to stop them if Lord Wyldon can't."

Daine sighed. She knew from experience how hard it was to make her husband change his mind once he'd set it on something. 

Numair stood behind Daine, his long arms wrapped around her slim waist, head resting on her brown curls. They both watched as the Shang Wildcat and the human Stormwing children warmed up, stretching their muscles to avoid injury, before their fight.They flexed and bended as if they didn't have bones. Numair frowned, wondering if this was a trait that came from their animal DNA and resolved to look into the matter.

"You ready to begin?" the Wildcat asked. Numair frowned again, wondering whom she was meant to verse. All of the Flock had stretched and warmed up. "Who wants to go first?"

"I wanna have a go," Iggy said. "Yeah, me too," Nudge added, beaming. Gazzy and Angel piped up, too. They broke out in an argument about who was to go first. _No matter how unique they are, _Numair thought, _they're just children when you reach the base of the matter. _He chuckled.

"Stop it, stop it," Max sighed. She shared a significant glance with Fang. They had a somewhat confusing, silent conversation finally with Max sighing. "Don't do anything stupid. Don't hurt yourself _or_ her," she said, frowning at Fang. "Boys," she muttered and Fang's mouth twitched.

Daine shifted in his arms. "Numair? Don't drain yourself again, please. I'll handle it," she murmured. Numair was struck at how lucky he was to have her – yet again.

He sighed, resigned. "I promise."

"So, you're first?" the Wildcat asked. Fang nodded, face betraying no emotion**.** "Okay, we'll start easy?" Fang nodded again. The Wildcat looked a little put off. Numair wondered what she was going to do – anything they did - even when they 'started easy' - blew his mind. "Just some basic punches, blocks and kicks." Fang nodded.

Max, Iggy and the three younger bird children moved away to give the fighters some space. "Don't hurt her, Fang," Max called out. Fang, once again, nodded but the corner of his mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile.

It soon became clear to everyone present that Fang knew what he was doing as well as the Wildcat. He flew through the basics with flying colours. The pages stood there and gaped when he completed the basic things they'd been learning to do all year in minutes. Lord Wyldon watched every move the Wildcat and Fang made with a critical eye, looking for mistakes or a chance for either to receive an injury. Max hovered nearby; also watching every move, although Numair thought it was for another reason.

"I think we're ready for a real fight," Fang said.

Lord Wyldon pursed his lips as all eyes turned towards him. "Very well," he said. He fingered the scar that ran down the side of his face, forehead creased. The pages turned their attention back to the fighters in the training ring, eyes shining with excitement.

"We'll start easy and progress to harder levels, the same as we did with the basics. Okay?" the Wildcat asked. Fang nodded, face blank. He reminded Numair of the Yamani's. Everyone held their breath, waiting.

The Wildcat came at Fang, punching high. He blocked easily. The Wildcat then feinted a blow down low but Fang – somehow – managed to block the hit that was aimed towards his middle. They moved constantly, on their toes and watching each other with watchful, calculating, appraising eyes. The Wildcat came at Fang yet again and Numair watched, rapt, as Fang lightly stepped to the side, then carrying the momentum, spun around with a roundhouse kick. He moved so fast that the Wildcat only barely managed to block in time. His kick wasn't hard, not hard enough to cause serious injury like Numair was sure Fang was capable of doing but it still took the Wildcat by surprise. Instinct took hold though, and the Wildcat grabbed his leg before it could hit her. She pushed it away from her, forcing Fang to stumble to the side. That, at least was what Numair expected to happen, recalling on previous fights he'd seen. Instead Fang flipped around in a half turn and punched at her. She blocked with time to spare.

Numair could see it when the fight progressed to a higher level. They started moving faster, aiming with more force and accuracy. Numair could no longer see their movements exactly; they were both fast moving blurs. He could, however, hear them. Each blow rang out through the awed silence of the on lookers.

A glance at Lord Wyldon told Numair that the hard training master was deeply impressed. He watched with the same rapt, appreciative, knowing expression as some of the knights that had drifted over to see the spectacle.

Max on the other side of the training ring from Numair also watched intently. She jerked from time to time with moves that she would have made, never looking away from Fang's fight, as if she were the one testing her skills against the Shang warrior.

Turing his attention back to the fight, Numair caught sight of the Wildcat jumping backwards then lurching forward again, forcing Fang to step back a step to avoid the punch she aimed at him. She then did a half turn and snapped her leg out in a deadly kick. Fang didn't block in time and it hit him in his side. Numair was certain that that blow would've knocked the breath out of anyone elsebut Fang moved back for two seconds, catching his breath, before lurching back towards his deadly Shang opponent. His movements a blur, he managed to hit the Shang warrior in her side. Without pausing, he spun around and kicked at her – without too much force – before recovering from his spin and kick to aim a blow down low. The Shang Wildcat managed to block his well-aimed kick, but failed to do so for the punch. She, too, recovered exceptionally quickly, but nowhere near as quickly as the young boy before her.

The Wildcat stepped back. Fang stopped, also. The Shang warrior looked her young opponent up and down. "You've been taught well, whoever your teacher was," she said. Her voice was hoarse and a page hurried over with a water flask in hand. He gave it to the Wildcat, who downed it in two gulps then scuttled off, quickly returning with it full for Fang. Fang also drank it down gratefully.

"That was a good fight. Very skilfully done," Lord Wyldon said gruffly, walking over. Fang, once again, nodded. So did the Shang Wildcat. "Boys, let's get back to work," he called out to the pages who were still looking at the Wildcat and Fang with awed, wistful expressions. They reluctantly followed Lord Wyldon with dragging feet and many backwards glances.

"Who won?" Daine asked Numair quietly as Fang and the Wildcat walked out of the training ring, towards Max and the Flock.

"It was pretty even, sweet," Numair said. "A test of skills, not a proper battle."

"Oh," was all she said. After a pause she said, "I best get you back to the infirmary, Numair. Duke Baird will want to check up on you."

Before he could answer his wife though, Daine pulled free of his loving embrace. "Sweet?" Numair asked. She didn't reply. She ran off with a hand clamped over her mouth to the nearby gardens. Daine was violently ill in the gardens, causing her husband to panic and fill with concern for her. "Daine, Daine, what's wrong?" he asked as he held her hair back from her face.

"Just some bad food, I think," she said in a choked voice. She straightened up then bent over again and was ill once more. Numair was worried. Maybe he should take her to see a healer? "I'm fine," she croaked when he asked her if she was okay.

"Come on. We were headed towards the infirmary, you'd best go see Duke Baird as well," Numair said. Daine grimaced, but nodded. Together they made their way to the infirmary.

"Daine?" Nudge called out, running to watch up to the pair. "Will we see you later? Are you okay? You were sick and all. I'm not sure what types of sickness there are but I don't want you to get any. Have you ever had a bad sickness? Did you nearly die? That would have been really bad. Have you seen anyone die before? I've only seen Tarloy and he was a bad person. It must be really bad to see someone you like die." She stopped, blushing, suddenly aware she was babbling.

"I'm fine, thankyou," Daine said, amusement evident to Numair in her voice. "Yes, I'll definitely see you later."

"All right," Nudge said, grinning, as she ran back towards Max and her flock. "We'll be hanging out here. The palace stinks of mages." She screwed her face up in disgust.

"Look at Daine first, please," Numair requested of Duke Baird once they'd arrived in the infirmary. "I'm fine and she was just ill in the gardens."

"How do you feel?" the healer asked Daine.

"Fine," she lied. She had been feeling fine. A bit tired maybe, then all of a sudden she was sick. It must have been something she'd eaten, although she couldn't think of what.

"Magelet," Numair said sternly.

She sighed. Sometimes she wished he didn't know her so well. "I feel a bit tired, that's all. I don't know where that came from," she said, looking at Duke Baird. "Must have been some bad food."

"Well, bad food or no," the healer told her, "I'll give you a check over. Sit down," headded, indicating the chair next to the bed Numair was sitting on. Daine frowned but obliged.

Duke Baird's gift entering her body made her skin tingle and itch a little bit. When she squirmed uncomfortably, the healer said, "Hold still. I can't do anything if you're jumping about." The examination was quick andDaine was relieved when, after a few minutes, Duke Baird withdrew his gift, having completed his search. He stood, searching her face, then Numair's.

"Well?" Numair asked anxiously. The healer looked between the pair again and Daine bit her lip, wondering what the problem was. She shifted under his intense stare.

"Well," Duke Baird said. "It's not a food bug that's made you sick, Daine," he said slowly, an unsure smile growing on his face. _Will this be good or bad news for them?_ The healer wondered. "It's, well, you're with child, Daine."

Daine sat there, staring at the healer with stunned disbelief written on her face. Numair also stared at the healer, although Daine couldn't imagine what his expression was like. Numair, who had been holding her hand, now gripped and squeezed her fingers so hard the tips starting turning purple. The young woman hardly noticed.

Her mother had been a midwife. She had seen women come to her mother all the time, wondering if they were pregnant. She had learnt from an early age how women became pregnant, how to stop becoming pregnant – a pregnancy charm. She knew the early signs of pregnancy. She knew all about morning sickness. She touched her neck, startled to find her charm gone. _Where did it go? _Daine wondered stupidly.

Slowly, though, a smile spread across her face.

_Daine's pregnant. _The words kept ringing through his head, over and over. _With your child._ He was going to be a father? He was going to be a father**!** Daine was having his child. _It is my child, isn't it?_ Were the next thoughts to break through his stunned state. _How?_ Was the next immediate thought. _Where'd her charm go?_ He struggled to recall the last time they had made love. Had it been there or hadn't it? He couldn't recall.

He had meant to squeeze Daine's hands reassuringly, but some how he had caught her small fingers in a hard, vice-like grip. He was vaguely away of Duke Baird quietly leaving.

_Did Daine want this? What was she thinking?_ He thought. Maybe she would think this was the biggest mistake of her life. Maybe she didn't want to have his child. Maybe she didn't want to have an old mans baby.

He looked down at her, seeking the answers in her expression, the one he could read so well, to find she was smiling. _Did that mean she was happy? _Her smile was hesitant but her eyes were shining with a glow he had never seen before.

"Daine?" he croaked.

"Numair?" she sounded stunned.

"Are you okay?"

She beamed at him but then her expression shifted and she looked worried. She bit her bottom lip – something she did when she was nervous, worried or anxious. "Yes, I'm fine. Are you . . ?" her voice trailed off and Numair struggled to understand what her question was.

"I'm fine," he finally said.

"No, I mean, are you all right with this? Do you want this? I -" Daine stopped talking and bit her lip. Her hand started to shake in Numair's and he relaxed his strong grip on her fingers. Her hands still shook, though.

Did he want this? "Magelet," he sighed. A thought occurred to him: What if he told her the truth – that he did want this, and she didn't then she thought she'd have to want this because he did . . . "Do you?"

She nodded, her mouth now trembling, although she still bit her bottom lip. Numair pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. "Magelet, Magelet," he murmured into her hair. "Of course I want this," he told her sincerely.

"Really?" her voice was muffled.

"Absolutely. Are you sure?" he asked her, rocking them both backwards and forwards.

"Absolutely," she echoed him. She looked at him, eyes shining with tears and pressed a hand to her stomach, looking down at it with wonder. "It's hard to believe that I have a _baby_ in _here_," she said. "_Your_ baby."

Ah, so it was his child. Numair smiled at the idea. "It is, isn't it?"

Duke Baird returned then. "Are you both okay? It must have been quite a shock," he said, smiling when he saw their embrace.

"So it was," Daine said. "We're great, but you never checked up on Numair." She looked at Numair accusingly. He chuckled.

"Rightly so." Duke Baird walked over and examined Numair. Throughout his check up, Numair's eyes never left Daine who sat down in the chair beside the bed. Duke Baird told him that he could return to his chambers to rest and recover and that sleep was all that was needed for him to be back in order.

"In to bed with you, Master Mage," Daine said sternly once they had arrived in their room.

"Only if you come with me," he said, grinning. They both got into the grand bed and settled down for an afternoon nap, tired both physically and emotionally.

I stared at the little twerps pointedly until they looked away. They – the pages – had better get their noses outta our business. Things were going from bad to worse around here. Sure, we got rid or Tarloy, the poor excuse for a human being, but then we got _another_ mage, one even more powerful. That was just what I needed, but things got worse. The Voice told me, demanded, ordered, grovelled with me until I agreed to come to the palace. Rulers were bad news in my book. The image I got of rulers – thanks to Tarloy – or those who wanted to be rulers, was that they were all bad, merciless, people set on world domination.

Not a nice stereotype for them, trust me.

As if coming here wasn't enough, the Voice made me tell the _King_ about us. Sure, we'd probably get hanged or something if we didn't tell him, 'cause he's all power-obsessed and ordered us too, but, it would've made me much, much, _much_ more happier if we had flew out of there, never to be seen again.

I'm just funny that way.

Then, everyone is suspicious and makes signs to 'ward of the evil' whenever they see my flock or I because we have wings. Like I had a choice if I was a mutant freak. They should try something called empathy. It's meant to be great – not that I'd know.

Then, as we were hanging around in the courtyards and training fields 'cause I had forbidden the flock to set foot in the palace – unless under extreme circumstances, of course – because there were so many people and _mages_, a haughty Lord Wyldon man had came out like a shepherd with a bunch of sheep trailing behind him and a Shang warrior to train the sheep.

Sheep. Pages. I see the resemblance.

Then the Flock had gotten excited about seeing a Shang warrior. It had almost been three years since we were trained but the last one was saw and they insisted on testing there skills and touching up.

Like I was ever going to agree to that.

But they had started an argument with the training master, demanding that they test their skills. We always back each other up, so when he started screeching down their throats, I joined in too.

That's when Daine turned up, dragging that horrible Mage along with her.

I so was _not_ going to back down, or change stories, or whatever and make a fool out of myself in front of everyone so I argued my point, well, the flocks point, and we won ourselves a fight with a Shang warrior.

Hip-hip-hurray!

Then they all fought about who was going to fight. I could see Fang wanted to, but I did too. Now, let me get this straight, he did _not_ win the discussion about who was going to fight. _I_ was _mature _– yes that's right, you're shocked, aren't you? – and let him.

So once he had tested his skills, the Shang went off with the Lord Wyldon and all his little sheep to train _them_. They were _so_ pathetic at fighting; I was having a hard time not laughing out loud at their clumsy attempts to block the weak punches thrown at them.

No joke, I could block those hits blindfolded with wings and hands folded behind my back.

They were spreading rumours about us, of course. Making stuff up about us to hide their jealousy. They were pathetic little dolts.

What am I doing here? I thought to the voice inside my head.

_It'll become clear soon, Max_ came the reply.

Where are you in the palace? I asked. I wanted to find and rat out this person who was invading my mind. They should learn some respect! Gosh, didn't their Ma's teach them _anything? _It's extremely rude to constantly be – literally – under someone's skin.

_All in due time, Max. _

I growled my frustration, earning myself startled glances from the Flock. "Nothing," I said. "Voice." I added when I saw their doubtful glances.

"Sure is annoying, what they're saying," Iggy jerked his head towards the pages. We were all sitting down, talking, and playing noughts and crosses in the dirt.

I hoped 'the due time' would come soon. I was getting seriously bored.


	3. Chapter 3

Cloud, Spots and Mangle eagerly greeted them upon their return to the small village. Cloud, even though she wouldn't admit it, was pleased to see Daine and the Stork-Man back with them safe. News among the animals had spread about the Stormwing People. They couldn't help but be a little bit worried for the Girl Who Is People when she went looking for this new oddity.

"You really ought to stay away from that forest – its haunted. It's not safe for a lady like you, and the mans a bit old to provide proper protection for you. Whats a pretty little thing like you doing with an old man like him, anyway?" a man from the village said to Daine the next morning when she announced that he shall mind the horses while they went into the forest again.

Numair flushed angrily, and Daine laid a hand on his arm. "I can protect myself well enough. I am a Wildmage. My husband here, Master Salamin, is a highly qualified and powerful Gifted mage. And he is no more older than you, thankyou very much. Now, excuse me," she said politely, and stepped around the man and walked out of the village, hand in hand with Numair.

She looked at her husband. His jaw was clenched – he was angry. She knew comments like that upset him, although they didn't mind her at all. "Numair," she said. He looked at her and she could tell by the fire burning in his eyes that he was very angry from what the man had said to them.

_This will not do_, Daine thought to herself. She stopped and took both of Numair's hands in her own. He looked down at her, expression fathomless. "Numair," she began again. "You really shouldn't let things like that worry you. You are not old in my eyes. I don't care what other people think, and neither should you. I know, and so do you, that you could protect me better than anyone else. You stop me from doing rash things; you help me in more than physical ways. I'd be lost without you," she said, and his expression softened. "We belong together. Nothing will ever change that." She thrust her chin out stubbornly and her eyes flashed as if she were challenging someone to defy her statement.

Numair felt his heart melt. He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, then more roughly and passionately. She was his Magelet, his Daine, his wife, his Wildmage. She was _his._ Eventually, they broke apart, aware that they had things to do today. She straightened her hair and her tunic, which were ruffled after her kisses with Numair.

"C'mon, dolt. We've got business to do yet today," she said, gently whacking his arm. He cleared his throat, took her hand, and set off towards the forest. Once there they both shed their clothes and changed into their preferred bird shape – hers a golden eagle, his a hawk. They had decided not to fly from their camp in the village since the villagers were too superstitious and most definitely would kick up a fuss.

_I hope we find these People Stormwings today,_ Daine thought. _I'm fair tired, though I can't see why. _

Mage and Magelet flew over the dense forest, searching with their sharp birds' eyes. Half and hour later they flew over a clearing. In the clearing stood a mage with maroon fire cracking in the air around him. He was of an average height and stocky build although most of his plump form appeared to be fat instead of muscle. He had red hair and freckles and wore an ensemble of clothes they'd seen in the village – well worn, tattered, comfortable breeches and an old stained, dirt streaked tunic. He stood over a small girl who was curled into a ball on the ground, cringing. She had the dark skin of the Raka from the Copper Isles and wild curly hair, which had twigs and bracken all threw it. She had purple bruises all over her body – some in the shape of hand marks.

Without a word, Daine and Numair dived towards the ground. This was not acceptable. They landed in the trees, which lined the outer edge of the clearing. They were still unnoticed by the mage and the young girl, who seemed to be about fourteen. Looking around, Daine noticed five other children. They all showed the signs of abuse and were as equally ruffled as the girl in front of the mage. None, however, had the same raka skin as the other girl.

"I have told you over and over not go out when I'm gone. You are forbidden to go flying. I will beat you from here to next week, Mithros mark my words I will!" the mage screeched in a deep, gravely voice. It was when he raised his hand up and brang it down on the girl, that Numair leapt from the tree, landed on the ground still in hawk-shape and then shape shifted back human. The man looked at him, stunned, and the little girl took the chance to half crawl, half drag herself over to the other children. A blonde girl, who looked around sixteen, hugged her close as the girl wept on her shoulder.

"What, in Mithros' name, do you think you're doing?" Numair demanded. He seemed not to notice that he was stark naked after being in hawk shape. Daine shape shifted back human, standing beside him on the ground for neutral support. She, too, was stark naked but seemed not to care. "You've beaten her half to death!"

"She's my creation," snarled the man and shook a fist at Numair. "Now get off my land before I turn you into an apple tree."

"What were you doing," Numair said coolly, stepping forward.

"I was punishing my property for disobedience. Now, you've missed your chance. I'll make you an apple tree and take your lady friend for myself. Nice body she has, decent bed warmer," the red haired mage snarled then grinned wickedly. Daine couldn't prevent the shudder that ran down her spine.

Daine, having married Numair and been taught by him for many years, had picked up some of the old, ancient, powerful language that was used now. The man shouted something in Old Thak but before whatever he'd said could take action, Numair had also shouted something in the same powerful language. The air sizzled, cracked, and boomed so loud that Daine thought she had gone deaf. The grubby, bruised children shrank back against trees at the edge of the clearing, whimpering.

The other mage's maroon fire cracked and lashed at Numair. It met a black shield. "Daine, move, get behind me, now!" Numair shouted desperately. She mutely moved behind her love.

More words were exchanged in Old Thak, and before she knew what had happened, Numair was a statue. Before she could scream, however, the rock shattered and Numair was once again wholly human. This latest attack seemed to anger Numair because he shouted something so harsh and powerful sounding that the ground at their feet split. Lightning cracked down and struck his foe, successfully defeating him. As his foe fell dead to the ground, Numair fell also. He, however, was not dead. He was merely unconscious. Daine fell down beside her husband and turned him over in her arms. "Numair! Numair!" she screamed.

"M'okay," he mumbled, momentarily gaining consciousness. "Just, drained, tired, don't leave, Daine," he mumbled before fainting.

"I won't," she murmured, holding his head in her lap. "Not ever."

She called a hawk down do her and had him retrieved her and Numair's clothes. Once she had thanked the hawk for retrieving these vital essentials, she dressed Numair and herself.

The six children sat at the other end of the clearing, still terrified and unable to move from the shock of what had just happened. _I'm still not sure, myself,_ Daine thought to herself. Slowly, however, they edged their way over the fire Daine had built, to warm themselves.

_Who are you?_ A female voice asked Daine. She looked around, trying to find the animal responsible.

_Who's there? _She mind called.

_Me,_ said the eldest blonde girl sitting opposite her on the other side of the fire. _I am People, too._

"You are another Wildmage?" Daine asked out loud in confusion.

"Not a Wildmage. I am animal. I am your wing-sister," she also said out loud. With that, she stood, rolled her neck and then shoulders and extended one fifteen foot tawny, speckled wing. "My name's Max. What's yours, Girl Who Is People?"

Daine's jaw dropped open. She shut it. _All great gods look at that! A human Stormwing who is People,_ she thought. "Daine," she croaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "My name is Daine."


	4. Chapter 4

"This is serious, isn't it, Numair?" Daine said quietly as they made their way back towards their chambers, late at night.

Numair put a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. "Yes," he said just as quietly. "Magelet, I –"

"We never went out for dinner!" Daine said suddenly, remembering.

Numair chuckled. "Next time, sweet. We've been busy, no helping that."

"Yes, I know," she sighed. "I still wanted to celebrate though," she mumbled under her breath.

"Here we are," Numair said, pushing the wooden door of their chambers forwards. He walked inside with Daine still tucked under his arm.

"I'm so tired," Daine complained. "I bet you are too, master mage. Are you going to read all night or come to bed?"

Numair grinned at her. "I really do need to finish researching recombinant life forms. This book has material I haven't seen anywhere before and it could quite possibly explained how Tarloy managed to merge the two species together without one taking over the others mind completely –"

Daine's lips on his stopped his lecture. "Don't read for too long. There's only two bells until midnight," she said once her lips were free again.

"If you insist," he mumbled before bringing her lips back to his.

…

Numair groaned as he stretched, spreading his long arms wide and nearly knocking over a messy stack of books. He had read for longer then he had intended to last night, only stopping when he fell asleep in his chair. He dreaded the scolding he would receive off his Magelet.

He stood and walked into the sleeping chambers. Daine was laying on her belly, splayed over both sides of the bed, face mushed against the mattress and snoring slightly. Numair couldn't remember seeing anything more beautiful in his life.

"Sweet," he said, shaking her shoulder gently as he perched himself on the side of the bed. She groaned and tried to bury her face under the covers. "Rise and shine, love," he told her.

"Huh?" she raised her head off the pillows. She gazed at him with sleepy but accusing eyes. "You never came to bed."

He grinned sheepishly. Maybe the scolding wouldn't be too bad if she was only half awake. "I fell asleep reading again."

"Again," she echoed. She shook her head ruefully. "Oh well."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No beating then?" he asked.

She shook her head, grinning. "No, I knew this would happen often when I accepted your proposal."

He grinned. "Can't bother you too much, seeming how you accepted me, despite my flaws." She collapsed back on the bed. "I'll be up soon." He took her word for it and headed back towards his study, although it was more a miniature library then a study.

He sighed, remembering the news that had arrived yesterday. Daine should rest now while she still had the chance. Numair took a moment to marvel at what Tarloy had achieved, even if it was in the name of cruel, inhumane things. He had successfully recombined two life forms, without one taking the others mind over completely. He had created an army of super enhanced beings without anyone in the realm knowing. And the realm spymaster was one of the best seen in decades – keeping it from him was an achievement indeed. But that army had been discovered now since Numair had killed the mage who had been protecting it. That deadly army was marching to Corus, and when it struck it would strike hard. King Jon couldn't take every knight and companies from their posts on the borders – that would leave Tortall's borders weak and easy for another nation to attack – but he had to have as many fighters as he could, in as little time possible.

Numair sighed again and navigated through all the mess to a particular bookshelf. He picked up a book and seated himself in his chair.. Even though his eyes felt like popping out of his head, he had to read. King Jonathan was having as many mages as he could come to Corus and Numair, being a black robe, was going to be a major figure in the council they would make. It was his job to read as much as he could about recombining life forms. Anything about them he read. Stuff like their sleeping habits to how to make them. Anything that might help, no matter how big or small the information was. Of course, he had inside help. Daine, the only person the Flock trusted, could get information firsthand from recombined life forms peacefully, something no one had ever heard of before.

Numair felt a swell of pride. _His_ Daine was beyond amazing. And he had taught her a lot of what she knew.

"I should've known." Daine appeared in the doorway, as if summoned by his thoughts. "Master mage has a book in his lap, again."

"Good to see you up, Magelet," he said, grinning widely and ignoring her teases.

She yawned. "I don't feel like I am." She made her way through the minefield and towards Numair. He watched her with amusement as she stumbled around books and clothing items. "Put the book away," she commanded, shoving it to the side. He gently placed the book to the side, frowning. In his opinion, Daine didn't treat books how they were supposed to be treated; no matter how many lessons and scolding he gave her. "That's better," she murmured, seating herself in his lap.

He chuckled, winding his arms around her. "I am meant to be working, sweet."

"You can in a minute or two. I just-" another yawn interrupted her, "- thought I might be a bit more interesting."

"I don't doubt that you are, sweet –"

Daine cut him off. "And, I also had to talk to you."

"What about?"

She sighed. "The Flock, and new plans."

"What about them? What plans?"

"They're demanding that they fight in the upcoming battle. Won't take no for an answer," she said and Numair nodded, knowing their stubborn attitude. "Jon agrees that they should fight, they are more then capable, but they refuse to be split up. They say they're a package deal. All or none."

He pursed his lips and frowned. "I see. So what did Jon say then?" This must have happened later on in the meeting, after he'd left to discuss things with a couple of mages.

Daine shook her head. "It all hit the roof then. Jon isn't going to be trodden over or take no for an answer. Max said that once he's been through what they'd been through he could judge them." She paused, biting her lip. Numair gave her shoulders a brief squeeze, urging her to continue.

"And then Raoul added his opinion, a kind of solution. Who would've thought he held so much charisma?" she paused to shake her head disbelievingly, a small smile gracing her lips. "Anyway, we know Jon wants to avoid a Corus based battle, and that seemed near impossible, until Raoul suggested the Flock fly out to determine where the troops are, exactly."

"Go on," Numair said, thinking quickly. A thought nagged at his mind – why wasn't he told sooner? This is vital information. "Wait, why wasn't I told before this? This is vital . . ."

"Oh, I told Jon I'd tell you. Well, the Human Storm-" Daine was saying when Numair cut her off, raising an eyebrow. "Magelet, there not even part Stormwing. They're human _avians_."

She huffed. "The human _avians _agreed. So when they find out, gauge how large their force is and everything, they fly back to Corus. If all goes to plan, depending on what they find, Jon and the other knights and commanders will work out a battle strategy, away from Corus."

"So many things could go wrong with that plan," Numair said as he shifted Daine onto his other leg. The leg she had been sitting on was numb. "They could get caught out there, they might not be a place to fight out side of Corus . . ."

"I know. But hey," she reached up to press her lips to the corner of his mouth, "we're not very experienced in the whole battle planning area. We generally just get told to do things on that side of the fence."

"I suppose so, but after all these years of wars, I recon I've picked up a thing or two," Numair mumbled, distracted by the feel of her mouth on his.

She snorted. He looked down at her in surprise. "You noticed something other then you books, for once," she explained.

"Excuse me," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have you know that I notice many things other than my books."

"Really?" she said doubtfully.

He lent down and whispered in her ear, "I noticed you." She shivered and met his intense gaze, her eyes shining with warmth.

Have you ever noticed how unbelievably itchy it is to sleep on straw? Well, if you haven't, it is _very_ itchy. No joke, I was at the point of screaming in frustration halfway through the night. I'm honestly not sure what was worse – the straw or the hard stone floor of my childhood cave. Neither sounded very appealing or comfortable.

"Man," Iggy said. "I don't care how many gods curst mages are in the palace, I ain't sleeping in this barn another night." He paused, looking thoughtfully for a moment. "All in favour say '**aye**'"

Yeah, well then everyone was chorusing '**aye**' and guess what, big shock, even me. No matter how many mages were in that palace, I was sleeping in a bed tonight.

"That's settled then," I said, trying to get all the straw out of my hair. "Urgh, this sucks." I threw up my hands in frustration.

Fang walked over and stood behind me. He was so close I could feel his body heat, like he was some portable fire or something. "Let me help you with that," he mumbled quietly and removed the band that held my hair out of my face. My hair fell forwards and immediately he set to work on picking all the straw out of my hair. I ignored the way my insides danced when his fingertips touched my head.

"Oh my goodness," Nudge said. "That is so –"

"Weird, I know," Iggy interrupted her. "Max hasn't decapitated him yet for playing with her hair!"

They all burst out laughing and for some reason I blushed. Full on blush here people. Not a pink stain on the cheeks, nothing too noticeable. No. Of course not. We're talking about my face having the sudden urge to impersonate a tomato.

"I think it's cute," Angel said. Gazzy made a gagging noise.

"Oh, go blow something up and leave me alone, would you?" I snapped. "I need to get this outta my hair so be quiet about it."

Iggy sighed. "I'm going, I'm going."

I threw my hands up in the air. "I didn't mean it literally!"

"Oh."

"Done," Fang said quietly, his voice rough. I glanced up at him, surprised. Since when did his voice sound like rocks being ground together? Well, not like _that_ but you get what I mean. He pulled his hands out of my hair and stuffed them in his pockets awkwardly. I tried not to pout.

"I. Need. Food." Gazzy said. Then he saw the look on my face and added, "Please."

"We'll go now, Gaz. And eat up lots cause it looks like we got some scouting to do today."

"Oh yeah," Nudge piped up. "This is going to be so awesome. Flying and stuff. Oh and we could hide behind walls and do little rolls around corners –"

"Honey, we're scouting not spying," I reminded her.

"Oh. Well, anyway, we could hide in clouds and stuff. It'd be so cool. I know that they're all wet and cold and shivery but still, it'd be so fun! Then we'd burst out and go whack, whack, chop, oppie daiseys, your dead meat. Like full Shang, like Fang the other day. Oh, Fang, I need to learn some new moves. Can you teach me, please? I promise I'll be good and . . ."

I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one who tuned out the rest of that conversation. No joke, sometimes it was better to let her get it all out of her system. Sometimes, if we're all really lucky, the next Nudge Channel Gush wont be for a while. If we're lucky.

"So we go see the king," Fang said.

"Breakfast first," Gazzy interrupted.

"Breakfast, king, fly, scout, spy, fly back, report, sleep in a real bed," I said. "That's pretty much our day for today. Oh and a lot of food along the way."

"I wonder what the cooks have cooked this morning," Iggy mused as we walked out of the stables and towards the palace.

_Concentrate today, Max,_ the Voice said.

_Oh good,_ I thought. _You've popped in again. How nice. And I was meaning to talk to you. Where are you in the palace?_

_You'll find me when you're ready to face your Ordeal,_ it said.

_Wow, hold up_, I thought. I may not have a top education but I knew what an Ordeal was. Who didn't? _I'm not becoming a knight. _

_Not all Ordeals lead to knighthood._

_Great, just great,_ I thought. _How would you know anyway? _

Silence. Irritating, annoying, god damned silence. Why cant a bird kid get answers around here?

"Yeah, I don't think she's with us," Nudge's voice pulled me back to reality.

"Voice," I said. "Oh, and add me going into some 'Ordeal' onto out ever growing to-do list."

Iggy snorted. "Your going for the knight in shining armour look now?"

"Not all Ordeals lead to knighthood," I told him, quoting the voice and feeling smart.

"What else is there?" he demanded.

"I guess we'll find out, later, wont we?" I told him because I honestly didn't know, not that I was going to admit that.

Okay. I admit it – maybe I was a _little_ bit touched in the head. Why? Because as soon as I was in the air again all those years of torture, training and pure hell suddenly became worth it. Yeah, that's right. My living hell, which because of I will never be normal, became worth it because, as I said a million times before, I am not normal, and I'm in the air _flying_. Awesome, isn't it?

"Urgh!" I said. Okay, maybe it was awesome until you had to fly through damp, wet, foggy clouds. I hate those things. I remember a time when I was a little girl, back when my wings weren't fully grown and resembled a chickens two pieces of fluff, and I could only dream about flying, I used to think I could eat clouds and sit on top of them and watch all the people below. I wish.

"Still want to be all spy, Nudge?" Gazzy called over as he dropped down to go under another cloud.

"No! Well, at least not in clouds. I still think it would be fun in like a forest or something. Really fun. We might be able to do that, right, Max? Or are we only to be in the air when we're scouting? We'd have to land sometime, for lunch and a toilet break, and to rest our wings. Like, I know you and Fang and Iggy are all like super fit and stuff, but me and Gazzy and Angel are still little and not as fit so we might have to rest. That's fair, don't you think? Oh! Are we _allowed_ to rest? Or is like forbidden by the king or something?" She bit her lip and looked at me with wide eyes.

I snorted. "Honey, even if it was forbidden, I'd still let you rest. I'm not like Tarloy. And anyway, we'll have a snack and a toilet break and later on we'll have a bigger lunch. Sound good?"

"Yeah, but can't we eat more now, I'm starv–"

I cut her off before she'd had a chance to start again, saving my ears as well as my mental health. "If your hungry now, imagine what you'll be like later," I said. "And we have breakfast in our stomachs."

"I guess," she said, frowning.

"Oh no," Gazzy moaned. "I'm going to die of hunger!"

Iggy snorted. "Yeah. And guess what? When you die, we'll all be so hungry that we'll turn cannibal and eat you."

Gazzy looked appalled. He looked at us all and gulped, looking scared. I laughed at him. "Gazzy, we're not going to eat you," I told him.

"That's right," Iggy nodded. "We'll only eat a bit of you. Like your arms and legs, so then you can still fly everywhere, but you won't be able to do anything."

"No you won't!" he said, sticking his chin out and looking stubborn. Yeah, because what I want for my midwinter gift is a stubborn Gazzy. I mentally groaned. "Max won't let you!"

"Guys," Angel said, cutting across us. "I can hear thoughts."

"What?" I asked. "Where?" In case you didn't know, which you probably don't because **you're**not a mutant and in on all our secrets, people, animals, and all those in between have to be close to Angel for her to hear their thoughts. Which, in this case, wasn't good.

"Not close," she said and then continued when I frowned at her, "I've been able to hear thoughts from further away lately."

"So your powers are growing?" Fang asked quietly from my left. I jumped, somehow, in mid air. He's so quiet sometimes I forget he's there. Then I frowned. He is the only person I know who can talk quietly when flying, even if its blowing a gale, and still be heard, somehow. All the rest of us have to shout.

"I think so."

"Joy," I muttered. Then louder, "So? What are you hearing?"

"Nothing," she said, frowning. "I can just … hear them, you know?"

No, I didn't know.

"So you can feel them but not hear them?" Apparently Nudge did know.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Okay then," I said in my leader voice. "Be on guard; try to sum up how many of them there are, and all the rest. Stay together, too."

I was responded with a couple of nods, an "Okay," and an "Alright-y." Well, at least they knew the drill. Stay safe, stay together, try not to be seen, get the job done, you know, the usual for us. It was reassuring, in a sad way.

I took the lead – literally – and descended, flying through the blasted clouds, so we were under them and could actually _see_. I know you may be surprised, but being able to actually see on a scouting mission is a lot of help for your average bird kid. Actually, I think it helps everyone.

Well, wholly molley, I didn't expect this. Growing up, as you do, I had only ever seen maybe ten or fifteen of each experiment species at one time. Looking down on the oncoming mutant army from under the clouds, like I assume any god would do, I knew that this was going to be bad. Really, really, really bad. Bad enough for me, Maximum Ride, to feel dread and a little tiny bit of fear. Wait, maybe not the fear.

It all came to clear to me then, too. Tarloy, curse his name, must've had outside help from other mages and another deserted forest or someplace where he made these monsters, cause there were too many for him to have made on his own, and there was no way in this realm they could've fit in one place without attracting attention.

"Mithros," Fang muttered. I glanced at him, surprised. We hardly ever swear using a God's name. He shrugged at me.

"Don't come running to me when the Gods come running after you," I warned. Tarloy had taught us to … keep on their good side, I guess. I think that's the only valuable lesson we got.

"I can't see," Iggy said, but for once he didn't sound impatient about it. "Explain what I'm missing, it has to be big."

"Big?" Nudge repeated doubtfully. "It's huge!"

"Well?" he demanded.

"There are maybe, I dunno, a thousand mutants?" I asked. "And there's some down there that I haven't met before, and boy, I don't think I wanna meet them, either."

"A thousand?" he repeated through an open mouth.

"Minimum. Two thousand maximum." I said and he exhaled in a whistle.

"How many knights and people in the King's Own and the Queen's Rider's are there?" I asked, flapping to keep myself airborne. Like treading water in midair.

"No idea."

"A lot?" I asked. "Because we're going to need every one of them. There are a lot of _things_ down there, and there super enhanced, so I'm pretty sure it's safe to say our strength would lie in numbers, if we have the numbers at all."

"We have mages," Fang thought aloud. "But they will have mages, too. But not as many, I don't think."

"I never thought I'd be happy to say there's a lot of mages at that damn palace," I muttered, frowning. What have I been reduced to?

"Max?" Gazzy asked. "What now?"

I thought for a moment. All eyes were on me, because I'm the one who threw the dice around here. "Well, we can't fly any closer without getting impaled," I admitted. It would be suicide, seriously – and that's a lot coming from me, trust me. "And some of those things, I bet, can fly, so I say we move on to the next thing on our to-do list." I sighed. "More scouting."

'Great," Iggy rolled his eyes. "This sucks. I can't even scout. I'm just a tag along."

"Aw, we love you Iggy," Angel said. I'm pretty sure she would've hugged him if we weren't in the air. "Don't think that! You're not useless."

"Yeah," I said. "If I hear you've been thinking you're useless, I'm going to have to serve your butt on a plate for you, I'll whip it bad."

"Fine," Iggy said. He didn't sound very happy about it. But hey, tell me who's _ever_ happy with my threats.

"Uh oh," Nudge said. "We've been spotted. Code red, code red."

Surprisingly, I found half a second to laugh at her before my leader survival skills kicked in and took over that small, nearly non-existent, carefree part of my mind.

"Right," I said. My voice was hard. "You got some mage blasts, Iggy?"

"Who do you think I am?" he responded sarcastically. I took another half a second to smile at him, even if it was pointless.

Fight or Flight?**And I'm talking about literal flight here. **

"Well, no matter, anyway. We're going to go with flight this time. Go!" I shouted the last word.

Ah, I'm glad they didn't choose this time to question my authority. This was good, seeming how we didn't really have the time. We were too busy pumping those wings of ours like madmen. Gazzy and Iggy flew first, followed by Nudge and Angel, and finally Fang and I. We were closest to the threat.

We don't do the whole 'glance over our shoulder' thing while flying. Truthfully, it's pointless and inconvenient when you have two honking big wings pumping back there. Instead, we have our own original 'look down and below' thing. It works better, honest.

Anyway, I looked down and saw fifty-odd winged shapes taking to the air. _Just_ what I needed. They weren't as fast as us, which was good because that meant we'd still have our hides later on tonight. They were buff and furry and changing from human to animal. Erasers. I breathed a sigh of relief. We'd dealt with these twits before in training. They only became a real threat in numbers, such as now, _if_ they caught us.

M-Geeks, too, started taking to the air. They were faster then the Erasers but not as fast as us, and weren't as strong as Erasers, and seeming how we're stronger and more skilled then Erasers, that was a good thing.

Wahoo! Human birds are the top of the mutant food chain!

"Max," Angel called back to me. She sounded close to tears. "I can't keep going. I'm going to fall behind and they'll get me," she let out a broken sob and tried to pump her wings harder, but she kept slowing down. I couldn't blame her – we'd been flying for all morning and we've been working those little babies back there quite hard for a while now, trying to get away from wolf men and M-Geeks.

"Angel, baby, I won't let that happen," I told her. "You have to keep going, sweetie. It'll go okay." Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, I chanted in my head. This is not good. We're tough nuts, we are. So I knew that when she said that she meant it. Which wasn't good with the whole 'keeping my flock alive' plan of mine.

"Max, I –" she started, but Fang flew forward to help her. I glanced back –our down and below way again- and made one of my infamous split second decisions.

"Fang, stop," I shouted. "I'll do it." He threw me a look but I wasn't paying attention to him anymore. I flew forward so I was above Angel. "Angel, when I say so, fold your wings in and drop, okay?" She didn't seem happy about it. "I'll get you, promise," I said, and she tucked her wings in and dropped.

I swooped down after her, reaching her before she had the chance to drop ten feet. I picked her up so my stomach was to her back and rapped my arms around her stomach and chest. She was shaking from either exhaustion or crying.

"Alright?" I asked as we started rising again.

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Max."

"It's not your fault," I scolded. She nodded. Man, she's heavy!

"Fang, watch them, okay?" I shouted to him. In other words: you're in charge. "I'm taking Angel further away." I know that there might be something where I'll drop her, but it was a chance and there was no chance of what will happen if she falls behind. Yup. I'll take my chances on this one.

He nodded and I poured on the speed, shooting through the air with Angel. I must admit, I was going fast, but not fast enough. I tried to go faster but I had been flying all day and I was carrying Angel, who was no lightweight. Another thing the whack job mages who made us forgot to improve on.

"Okay. Stay here. Rest, but be ready to continue when the others catch up, okay?" I told her once we'd landed.

"Okay. Thank you, Max," she said, wiping her eyes. I was in the air before she could finish her sentence.

"I wish I could get a lift," Iggy panted once I'd gone back to them.

"Dream on," I told him.

"How far off are they?" I asked Fang.

"Not far enough."

I sighed. "Angel is fifteen minutes away, recovering, but we can't keep going like this, either way."

We flew for a couple of minutes in silence while I thought. "There's too many to fight, but we might make it to the palace, or close enough to contact Daine for help."

"_You're_ asking for help?" Iggy echoed, doubtfully. Then an evil grin swept across his face. "You're never going to live that down."

In a rare moment of maturity, I ignored him and focused on thinking about how to keep us all alive.

"Just keep flying," I said. And they did. It was kind of pointless to say that, but hey, people like Iggy need instructions, even if they are unnecessary.

_Angel,_ I thought. _If you can here me, hit the skies, sweetie. _

It wasn't long before her little form made its way up to us.

_Sorry guys,_ I heard in my head and by the way smiles and "It's okay" went through the flock, I'm guessing she projected it into their minds, too.

We flew back a slightly different way then we came. We went west before heading towards Corus, don't ask me why. I think it was because we were too busy trying to get away and stay _alive_ to tune into that little bird instinct in the back of our heads, but hey, it helped us a lot, coming this way. The second part of our 'mission' was to try and find some place other then Corus to fight our battle at. Will a honking big plain do? I think so. Good, that's done, so we don't have to go scouting again tomorrow.

"I can hear peoples thoughts, Max," Angel said aloud. "I think we're getting pretty close to Corus. Maybe." I can honestly say I think I saw everyone relax, which is honestly saying something because 1) we're about a thousand feet in the air and 2) we're not very relax-ish people.

I glanced back and saw the other less flock-friendly recombined life forms were slowing down. No idea why they were, but I was too busy being relieved to think too much on that.

I looked forwards again, even though it was pointless because I was suddenly getting a bath in a cloud again, and couldn't see. When I lead the way out of it on the other side, I saw the outskirts of the Lower City. We were closer to Corus then we thought, but then again, we were going pretty fast. Faster then normal, which meant we probably misjudged distances.

"Don't you dare slow down," I growled at my flock when they started to slow their pace, not that I could blame them – my wings were on fire, they hurt so much. "No chances." No one replied.

We all thumped one hell of a horrible landing in the palace training yards. Pages looked at us with their eyes popping out of their heads but I was too busy watching my flock collapse on the ground to pay any attention to them. We must have flown miles and miles. At least an hour, maybe two, of hard flying.

"I'm never flying again," Iggy moaned.

I snorted.

"Wait, I take that back. I'll fly, but just not like that," he amended, closing his sightless eyes.

A savage cry sounded from the sky, and by savage, I mean _savage_. Wild. I looked up and saw a lone Eraser. Well, I can honestly say _this_ one must be more wolf then man, judging my the sounds its making.

"Oh, I'm dead," Nudge moaned.

"No your not," I snapped. The Eraser spiraled downwards and landed in the training yards, snapping its jaws and foaming at the mouth. Ew. I think it has rabies. So _gross_ – even for an Eraser. "I'll deal with this one," I muttered to the flock.

I could hear the commotion from the pages and training master as I walked away from my flock and further into the open. I glanced back, still keeping half an eye on the Eraser and called over to them, "I bagged this one so don't touch it." The training masters eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets and I stifled a laugh. I've never seen anyone look like such a … pray mantis or something.

"She _bagged_ it?" someone muttered before I tuned them out.

"What now? Go away. And, please tell, do you have rabies? Seriously, you need help. It's gross, even for an Eraser," I called up to the Eraser.

It growled and said _something_ – I didn't catch what, even with me super hearing – and it landed with a thump. Its landing was even worse then mine – and the flocks.

"See your landings haven't improved," I commented as it lurched forwards. I got into a fighting stance. I'd teach it to chase my flock and me.

A bolt of black fire shot threw the air and struck the rabid Eraser. In a second it was gone, leaving a charred Eraser. A _dead_ charred Eraser. I spun around and faced Daine's mage.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, throwing my arms up. "I _bagged_ that one! It was mine!"

He sputtered and looked at me in disbelief. I sighed as I heard the Flock start laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

You'd think something as big and as known as the Chamber of the Ordeal would be some fancy schmazy place. Well, lets just say I was disappointed. And probably various knights before me had been, too. It looked like any other plain room in this goddamned castle. Stone walls, stone floors, la la la, boring stone.

"Now what?" I asked. There was no answer. Hell, wasn't this meant to be the headquarters for the Voice? It should answer while I was here, at least. "Voice? Chamber? Whoever –whatever– you are?"

I sighed and walked through into another room, frowning. Now that I was here, I should at least get some hint as to what I was meant to be doing. I wondered what I was becoming, since I sure as hell wasn't going to become a knight any time soon. Urgh. No way.

I paced the room. _This is easy,_ I thought. _Don't know what they were all going on about, honestly. _

I sat down, leaning against the wall and peered into the unnatural light. There's no way it was sunlight since there were no windows. There were no candles. And there sure as hell were no mages to make some light in here. But the Voice –I mean the Chamber– was magic, right? Maybe it wanted to bless me with sight for this Ordeal. How thoughtful of it.

Ew. That was cold. Uh – so was that. Cold and contracting and scaly. I frowned as a flutter of panic and fear unfolded in my chest, then laughed quietly at myself. Here _I_ was scared. How ridiculous. None the less I glanced down, shamefully holding my breath. Snakes. Damn Snakes. I hate snakes so much some people would say I fear them. I snorted. As if.

"Damn Voice, or Chamber, or Ordeal, or whatever," I muttered, staring out at the opposite wall. I would _not_ give it the satisfaction of getting up and jumping around like a lunatic – no matter how much I wanted to. _No way_ I'd do that. So I ignored the snakes instead. It took a lot of Maximum will-power.

A figure emerged from the shadows to my right. I only just saw it out of the corner of my eye. I jumped to my feet, and bang, I was ready to kick some ass. I wondered if the Voice would be cruel enough to let some other mutants in here to meet me – the non-friendly kill-Max type. Hell, if it had, I'd show it where it could shove its damn Erasers.

I walked towards the figure, ready to go Shang on it in a split second before whoever it was could blink and go _'wow, she's got wings'._ I was glad the dang snakes had gone away – it wouldn't help me tripping over the horrible slimy slithering reptile slugs. _Not_ my thing.

"Help me," the stranger said, appearing from nowhere beside me. I jumped as only a bird hybrid could. Dang, so much for me having some super owl hearing, cause I hadn't heard a _thing_ from whoever it was. Only I _did_ know who it was – I'd know that voice anywhere. And that's what confused me. What in high heck was _Fang_ doing here?

"Fang?" I asked. Then my leader instincts kicked in. "What the hell are you doing? Why are you here? You should be with the Flock! When Daine and that scumbag mage finds out –" I stopped talking as Fang stumbled forward a step. I sucked in a breath. "Fang! What happened to you?"

He stumbled towards some more, each step making it clearer to what happened to him. Half his face was ripped off, bleeding. Deep bleeding scratches covered all his right side, from his hairline to his toes, I bet. "Help, me, Max," he pleaded.

"No, Max," Angel moaned. I spun around to find my baby sprawled on the ground, her wings lying beside her, two bloody holes on her back. "You have to help me, please," she begged. She was crying. Angel never cried. Oh, Gods.

"What happened!" I demanded, rushing over.

"Max! Help us!" Nudge and Gazzy called. I stopped and spun again, trying to find them in the gloom. Damn, couldn't this Chamber do a proper job? It only had half of the light here for me to see. How in the world was I meant to save them if I couldn't see them? I may have good sight, but not that good. I couldn't find them in this.

"Please." Fang. I was too scared to wonder at how Fang suddenly became polite. Damn, he must be hurt bad. Well, I knew he was, but . . . I shook myself mentally, trying to find him. He'd vanished into the gloom again. Damn it. What kind of dolt was he, to go away from me? How could I help him then? I'd taught them better then that!

"Max." Nudge's pleading voice tormented me. "It hurts, Max."

"Max." Angel sobbing. I spun. Apparently Fang wasn't the only dolt who decided not to stay in the same spot like any sane hybrid.

"Help." Gazzy.

"Don't leave me." Iggy made an appearance, shattering what small hope I'd had that he wouldn't've suddenly became mincemeat like the others. I dreaded finding what kind of shape he was. "Don't leave."

I blindly started running around the Chamber, which seemed to get twice as long with each gods cursed step I had to take to find my dying Flock. I called their names and asked them where they were. They didn't answer, only kept calling my name and pleading for me to help them. Every time I thought I knew where one of them was, their voice would come from somewhere else. I wouldn't let myself cry. It would help with my whole seeing plan. Tears and the gloom would mean practical blindness. Couldn't those mental mages get anything right? Tarloy called himself a genius. I called him a failure. He made us all faulty. Dolt.

_Damn Chamber, damn Voice, I_ thought. _Damn you and your tests_. I stopped running. Tests. The Chamber tested you to see if you could survive your biggest fears. I sighed as I heard the Flock calling and pleading for me to help them and not to leave. I sat down against the wall and stopped looking for them. I don't think I've ever done anything so hard. I mean, sure, I'll face savage mutants any day, sometimes happily depending on what mood I'm in and what Iggy and Gazzy's latest prank had been, but this? This was, like, the ultimate Max-strength tester. They were still my Flock calling me, even if they were illusions. It was hard not to keep running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. I didn't think I'd ever catch this tail in here.

Gods, I _hate_ magic and mages and Voices and Chambers.

The voices cut off. Silence joined in with the misty gloom floating around me. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, because it either meant I'd passed that particular little –or big, depending on how you see it- test and the Voice/Chamber thought to stop the illusions tearing me apart inside or that the Flock really had been here and had died. People –even half human half animal people– don't talk when they're dead. I'm all for the illusion idea.

Suddenly I was smack bang against the floor. The air went outta me with an _oof_ as I bellyflopped the stone floor. How the hell did that happen? I tried to get up, but I was falling through the floor. The stone dissolved into clouds and blue sky and the green and brown-patched earth below me. It looked like a weird earthy coloured blanket. Wind was pressing against me, pushing me to the fast approaching ground.

What the _heck_ was this? I was a _bird_ hybrid. I could _fly_. What did _I_ have to fear from falling? All I had to do was pull some muscles and –_bam_– there goes the wings. This all felt so real I couldn't see how it possibly couldn't be.

_But this is the Chamber-Voice,_ something inside me whispered_. _But it smelt like it was real. It looked like it was real. It _felt_ like it was real. Watching the ground approaching fast, I decided it was time to snap out those parachutes of mine.

_Now what? _I thought as nothing happened. It was like those muscles weren't working. Like a mage had put my body to sleep and I couldn't feel it. _Totally_ not good when I was falling like a dead weight towards the ground I suddenly realised would be _very_ hard when you hit it.

Bang. I was on the Chamber floor again. I snapped open my wings. Yup. All good back there. Then I frowned. I was pathetic. I'd been fooled three times by visions and illusions made from a _room_. How was I meant to protect my flock if this kept happening? Oh, and this was making me angry. And being angry at a chamber –even if it was The Chamber, and the Voice– made me even angrier. I growled.

I pulled myself to my feet. And nearly rolled my eyes as _another_ illusion appeared in front of me. I harrumphed. This must what it was like to be in a non-mutant war. Horses, people waring metal plates, swords, lances, people running back and forth, commands being shouted left right and centre. Jeez. Maybe they should learn some organization. I mean, my Flock and I are no way near to being pro at _that_, but I thought we were better then this.

Wow. There I was. And there was Fang. And Gazzy. And Iggy. And the girls. Man, know I _knew_ this was an illusion. We were standing among the ranks of soldiers, surrounded by mages. _Mages_ of all the people around. Great. Daine was there, looking out over the horizon as one _mighty_ big flock of birds flew towards us. Numair was there, talking into some damn mage spell thing of his.

"What is it?" Numair asked. Looking more closely at the vision, I realised it was the plain I'd seen on my flee from the scouting mission. Hmm.

"Oh, no," Daine said.

I glanced up, following her gaze. Oh no is right. The airway was swarming with Erasers. I watched as I started shouting at Numair, who started shouting back. Black mage fire played around his fingertips, and he shot bolts up into the air. Damn, those things moved like lightning.

But it wasn't enough. Erasers and M-Geeks and Flyboys swarmed around and suddenly people started falling around me in the vision. I guess they were caught by surprise. The Flock and me in the vision ran around in the vision, and Iggy jumped into the air, fire swarming around him.

I nearly groaned. I'd forgotten about his new firebird powers. Well, I guess I _was_ taking my Ordeal. That's reason enough.

The vision suddenly got bloody. It was gruesome. Unfriendly mutants and Tortallans lay all over the place, dying or dead. I doubted any that went down would ever come back up cause it didn't look like anyone was giving any extra thought about treading on them as bad mutants and knights rushed at each other.

The vision started to fade. I watched as it shrunk in size then disappeared. "Finished?" I demanded the Voice Chamber before starting to pace. Who knew an Ordeal would take this long? I think I've missed dinner.

_Save the world, Max,_ the Voice said for the first time since I'd stepped into the Chamber – into it. I made a disgusted face at the thought. So wrong.

"Aha," I said, nodding.

_Save them,_ it said.

"You got it," I mumbled. I brightened as the Chamber clicked open. Hey, maybe dinner wasn't a lost hope . . .

"How long does this thing normally take?" Gazzy demanded. Numair's eyes flicked over to him as he stopped his pacing in front of him. He looked down at the boy. He had no idea what he'd helped happen. Didn't he have _any_ idea of what he'd helped Max to do?

"As long as it takes," Jon snapped as an answer.

Gazzy sighed and leant back against the wall, sliding down it, looking pathetic. Numair glowered at him before resuming his pacing. This was _insane_. He didn't think anything like this had ever happened before. Ever. An untrained person going into the Chamber, to go through an Ordeal, but not to become a knight. Numair sighed and tugged on his roughly made ponytail.

"I'm sure we've missed dinner," Nudge complained. Numair couldn't believe it. They were more worried about their stomachs then their Flock leader at a time when she could possibly die. It had happened before, but Numair doubted it would happen to Max. She didn't seem the type. But it was completely possible that she could come out deranged.

The door clicked open. "I wouldn't miss dinner," a voice said. Max emerged from the Chamber of the Ordeal, looking worse then Numair had ever seen her. Bags hung under her eyes, her hair was a mess, there were holes in her clothes, she was sweaty and her wings hung limp at her sides.

"Max!" Angel shouted before throwing herself at Max.

"Hey, sweetie," Max said. She sounded as tired as she looked. Numair stared, astonished, as a tear leaked out of her eye and onto Angel's hair. He blinked. Nothing was there a second later when he opened his eyes, and she wasn't crying. He must've imagined it. He blinked again.

"What did you do?" Jonathan demanded, striding forward. Numair stopped his pacing and moved over to stand beside Daine.

"Whoa, watch it," Max said, releasing Angel. "I didn't _want_ to. I _had_ to. That damn thing –" she jerked a finger back at the steel Chamber door. Numair glanced at it briefly before turning his attention on the cause of all their problems "- the Chamber – the Voice – made me." She crossed her arms, looking exactly like herself again. Numair refrained from sighing. Things could get really out of control right now.

"And why, exactly, did it make you do this?" Jon fumed, looking equally as menacing as Max did.

She shrugged and glanced at Fang out of the corner of her eye. "Because I had to face my Ordeal. And I had to learn something _very_ important."

"What did you learn?" The King asked. Apparently, it wasn't only Numair who wanted to know. He watched her intently, running over his thoughts and theories in his mind as she thought about answering.

"That's for me to know," she finally said.

Numair nearly felt the tension in the room snap. Jon looked outraged. Daine looked worried, biting her lip and frowning at Max. Numair put a comforting arm around her shoulder. George was watching silently from a corner, eyes missing nothing. Thayet walked up to Jon and laid a hand on his shoulder. He calmed marginally, and it still left him in a temper.

_I'm glad Alanna's not here, right now, _Numair thought suddenly. _With her temper . . . Gods,_ he added, thinking about what would possibly happen. 

"What do you mean that's for you to know?"

She sighed. "Exactly what I meant."

"How –" Jon started.

Numair watched as something inside of Max snapped. One second she was standing there, Nudge's arms around her and Angel standing nearly on top her, Gazzy just as close, Iggy and Fang hanging silently in the background, the next second Nudge was hugging nothing and Max was in front of Jonathan's face.

"I don't care who you are. I needed to do it. I didn't want to. It wasn't even about my Flock or me. It was about you," she snapped angrily. She looked about ready to hit him. "You and this kingdom. Tortall. Tortallans. Sure, I saw my Flock dying gruesomely and I ran for _hours_ looking for them as they pleaded for me. But in the end –" she pointed at the Chamber angrily "– I went through that so I can save _Tortall_!"

Jon looked as stunned as Numair felt. Nothing was to be heard in the room. Even the Flock looked a little stunned.

"Max," Angel said, stepping forward. "That wont happen to us. And they wont take my wings. You know that." It took Numair a moment to realise that she'd been reading Max's mind.

Max nodded absently. "I know, baby." She never took her eyes of the king. He never stopped looking at her. There seemed to be some type of tension between them that the rest of them could only guess at.

Numair's eyes snapped to Fang as he suddenly walked towards Max. He leant down to her, and whispered something into her ear. She scowled. His mouth tugged upwards at the side, and he lent down again to whisper something. She nodded.

"Well," she told Jon. "We really are going to miss dinner."

"Max," King Jon said. "I want to talk to you later."

She rolled her eyes. "After food."

"And catch some sleep, too," he advised. Numair had to marvel at how quickly the tense atmosphere had disappeared. Or dimmed. He could still feel it, after all. "I know what that does to you." His eyes flicked towards the Chamber door.

"Is she alright?" Numair asked Daine quietly as the Flock left, bombarding Max with questions.

Daine's eyes met his. "I think so," she said. "She's getting better every second she'd with her Flock." Numair nodded in response, and gently tugged her towards the door. Jon was talking with George and Thayet and it didn't look they would be missed.

"I wonder what she's saving us from," Numair mused.

"Something big, I'd guess," Daine said.

"I hope she can do it," Numair said quietly, thinking of what it would mean if she couldn't. From what she'd implied, she was saving Tortall. If Tortall fell . . . who knew what would happen. Numair shivered. All the magical knowledge here, the Dominion Jewel. It would be horrible. And if Tortall fell, Daine fell. If Daine fell, their child fell . . . Numair swallowed. He decided then he'd do whatever it took to help Max save them.

Daine glanced out every window she passed, searching the sky for the Flock even though she knew the chances of seeing them were minimal as she made her way to Numair's study. She felt a thrill that, up until now, she only felt when she was in the sky flying with her friends among the People. She'd just gone to visit Duke Baird for a check-up and everything was okay. _Perfect_ was the word he'd used and Daine couldn't help but agree with him fully.

"How was it?" Numair asked as soon as she was through the doorway. He was perched over a book, face turned to peer up at her, eyes shining but guilty.

"Great," she laughed, her good mood taking over. "He said it was _perfect_."

Numair jumped off the couch with a speed that rivalled his height and had her in a tight hug before she could blink. He pressed his lips into her hair. "That's great," he said. He pulled back to look at her stomach adoringly, grinning all the while. He turned to look back down at her, eyes still shining with love, the guilt still there but receding. "I'm so sorry I couldn't come," he apologized.

"It's okay," she reassured him. She knew he would've come if he hadn't been forced to work. They both knew that times like this would come up.

"I promise to be there next time, no matter what."

"I'd like that."

Daine pulled out of his embrace and went and sat on one of the chairs next to the one Numair had been working on. She pulled a book from the stack on the hard wooden desk, opening it with one hand and tapping Numair's abandoned book with the other. "Don't let Jon catch you not working," she warned, eyes never leaving the page in front of her. Numair chuckled and sank into the chair again, already absorbed in the world of words.

Three hours later, after a meeting with the King in which the Flock had been invited to share the results of their latest scouting mission, Numair was outside the walls of Corus with Iggy. The blind pyromaniac was walking around and picking rocks up off the ground, judging their weight against a smooth blue one he held in his left hand and feeling them all over to make up for his lack of sight. Numair had not a clue in the world as to what he could possibly be doing. He cleared his throat, but refrained from speaking as Iggy held up a finger, silencing him. Frowning, he watched the young man chuck away the grey rock he was holding in his hand and pick up another slightly larger one, repeating the feel-over and chuck away process.

"Just can't seem to find the right one," Iggy mumbled, bending over and running his hands along the ground.

"What are you looking for?" Numair asked, standing off the side awkwardly. He wasn't sure what he was meant to do. They had come out here to experiment with Iggy's newfound Gift, if it could be called that, but so far all the boy had done was look at rocks. He was at a loss as to how he was meant to handle the situation.

"I thought mages were meant to be smart," Iggy observed. He ran his hand over the ground again and then straightened and kicked the ground in frustration, sending a cloud of gravel billowing at Numair.

Numair coughed, and wiped grit from his eyes before answering with a simple, "Most are."

"Well you're obviously not," Iggy said, and Numair frowned. He was a black robe mage, thankyou very much, and it wasn't very often that anyone dared to say anything like that to him because they feared his power. He was smart. He felt slightly insulted at the accusation. Iggy sighed, and explained. "I'm looking for a rock about this big." He held up the blue one in his hand. "Not quite as smooth as this, and grey."

"How can you tell what colour they are?" he asked without thinking. Only afterwards he realised what a horrible question it was to ask a blind person.

Iggy scowled. "Just because I can't see colours doesn't mean I can't _feel_ them."

"One of you're abilities?" the mage guessed, curiosity rising. He'd never heard of something like this. It was amazing, to say the least. Iggy nodded.

"Anyway," the bird kid said, "I need those rocks for a _project_ I'm working on. Gazzy and I have this theory, that if mixed with a certain powder we accidentally made one time trying to make a bomb –" it took Numair to remember that's what they called their version of Mage Blasts "- it would be one hell of a big bang, and that's what were looking for if were going to beat those Erasers and M-Geeks and that coming." His expression hardened.

He's making a massive Mage-Blast for the war, Numair realised. "Oh. Well, then," looking around, Numair spied a decent sized grey rock and picked it up. "How about this one?" He put it in Iggy's outstretched hand.

"Hey," he said, sounding surprised. "That's a good one. Now all we need is about another," he paused for a moment, head cocked to the side, "about another two hundred or so of these. Minimum."

Numair was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. How were they going to find all of these in time? And, going on what Iggy said, he didn't even know if it was going to work. "That's an awful lot, for just going on a theory."

Iggy scowled. "I know it's going to work," he said defensively. "I've never actually seen it work before. Well, not seen," he amended, realising the obvious, "but you know what I mean. We've never actually done it. That doesn't mean it's faulty."

Realising he'd somehow insulted him, Numair tried to fix that. "If you tell that to Jon, and say it's for the war, he'd probably get some people out here to collect some of those rocks." Iggy nodded thoughtfully, anger forgotten. Numair was relieved.

"Will do," he said, and shoved the rock down his pocket.

Numair cleared his throat nervously. "We're actually meant to be experimenting with your Gift. If Jon or Thayet finds out we've been collecting rocks instead . . ." he trailed off, uneasy. There was too much to be done in too little time to be doing anything but work. If he weren't the mage with the strongest Gift around, he'd still be in pouring over books like the rest of the mages at the palace, but they had needed him to take care of this. He could cast the strongest protection spells, after all, and they weren't sure what would happen when Iggy wielded his gift, much less the dangers involved.

"No need," Iggy said, waving a dismissive hand at him, "I've got it all down packed."

"What do you mean?"

"I can already use it." He looked over at Numair, sightless eyes nearly dead on with meeting his, which sent a slight shiver down his spine. He grinned evilly. "Gaz and I have been practicing."

"What do you mean you've been 'practicing'?" the older mage asked, dread tingling through him. If something had happened, with no proper mage there to oversee things, it would have been a catastrophe. They had no idea what the where dealing with, well, neither did he, but they didn't seem to care or acknowledge the dangers involved in experimenting with these types of things. He was surprised Max allowed it – if she'd known. He knew how Iggy eluded Max.

"Well, it was just us, none of the others know apart from Angel," he said as if he read Numair's thoughts. "And we just mucked around with it, you know? _Experimented_." He said the word as if it was dirty, and considering his past with its use, Numair didn't blame him. "We had it all controlled." That didn't reassure, or soothe, Numair.

By now, the black robe was seething. They had _played_ with an unknown Gift, with no idea –

"Here, I'll show you," Iggy said, cutting off his mental rant. He straightened with a jerk, ready to tell the boy to do _nothing_ but it was too late. A tree to the left of them was burning, the fire eating it quicker then Numair would have every thought possible. "Isn't it awesome?" Iggy crowed, looking in the trees general direction with something akin to love.

"Stop that – right now," Numair gasped. He could faintly see the magic within the flames, flickering through the dancing spirals of fire. The same white-yellow shadow that was in the fire was coated around Iggy, not out of control in an untamed manner, but hugging him like a second skin. Completely in control, like he'd been doing it for years. Experienced, was the word he would've used. Numair's mouth open and closed in shock.

The fire stopped, leaving three quarters of the truck black, only the top still alive. Green leaved poked out the charred trunk. The contrast was confusing. How had he called it off so easily, so quickly and effortlessly, with seemingly no resistance? Numair wondered, looking at the grinning boy in front of him in a new light. Gods, he added, shaking his head. He'd never seen anything like it.

"Told you," Iggy said. Hearing Numair's mouth open, and then close with a snap as he found no response to that, the boy roared with laughter. "Wait till I tell Gazzy about this!"

"By all the Gods," Numair said, "How did you do that?" It shouldn't be possible. But this was a new Gift. A first. Maybe it was different, and would go against what Numair had already learnt about magic.

Iggy's laughter finally died down, and he wiped his eyes, chuckling slightly. "No idea, honestly. Just happened like that. Since the first time I tried, actually." He said all of this matter-of-factly. Numair's mind was reeling, and he exhaled in a gust of air. "I don't think we need to experiment, or train, at all," Iggy said, then paused and continued, "Wanna see something awesome?"

Numair surprised a weak, "Sure."

"Okay." Iggy rubbed his hands together in a way Numair was beginning to recognise. It spoke of trouble. "I'm just going to set your eyebrows on fire but there's no –"

Numair stumbled back in shock. "_What?_" he shouted, then, "Don't you dare touch my eyebrows!" He placed his hands protectively over his thick black eyebrows as if that alone would protect them from this boy's strange power.

Iggy cackled. "Look, mage, calm down. It won't hurt, and it won't burn them. Here, I'll do my own." Before Numair could tell him not to, that he'd probably burn half his face off, Iggy's eyebrows were on fire. The flames were tiny but there was a bigger magical glow coming off them then there was on the larger fire that had consumed half of the tree before. Numair frowned, briefly wondering why that was, before more questions tumbled through his mind as he realised Iggy's eyebrows were defiantly not burning, but yet the fire was there all the same. "You see, I have to, sort of, restrain it when I don't want it to burn. But with the tree, it burnt freely, more naturally. That doesn't take as much effort," Iggy explained, and Numair hung from every word, captivated. He frowned, and the tiny fire moved down when his eyebrows did. "It's more harder this way, but its cooler." Numair summarized, quickly, that the more effort, the more magic he used, answering his earlier question. He made a mental note to double-check the library and his notes, even though he was fairly positive he wouldn't find anything.

"That's . . ." he started, and then stumbled. "Well, it's incredible." His voice was still weak. He shook his head in downright amazement.

Iggy grinned and the fire disappeared from his eyebrows. Not a hair was out of place, no black singe marks against the white-blondness. "I wanna try something, okay?"

"Yes."

"Grab a stick then. One with leaves."

Numair wondered a little bit, looking for a stick, before finally breaking a little branch off a tree. He walked back to Iggy, feeling suspicious but excited. It was incredible. He'd never seen anything like this before, and he wanted to know more. He wondered if Iggy would let him study him, take some notes, they could do some experiments together. He answered that question himself: No, that'd never happen, and asking would loose any tolerance – or trust – he'd earned from the Flock and make them feel threatened. He could already imagine Max freaking out, taking her Flock away, determined for them to be safe. Defiantly not. What a shame, he thought.

"Okay. I'm going to set my whole body on fire," Iggy explained, excitement in his voice, "and try to make it so it will burn, but won't burn me, okay? Understood?"

"Err," Numair hesitated before nodding. "Okay."

"Good. So, to see if it'll burn, shove the stick into the flames."

"Yes." Numair wondered what he was getting himself into, but he could already feel his interest building as he wondered if it was possible. Besides, he wouldn't – couldn't – back out now. This was as close he would ever get to studying the pyromaniac.

Whoosh. Iggy went up in flames, and for a moment Numair's natural instincts took over and he stumbled back a step. "Kind of tickles," Iggy said, and Numair all but pounced on the information. "Okay . . . Do the stick now." Numair shifted the stick so he was only holding the very end of it, extended it as far away from his body as he could, and put it in the flames.

"It's not burning," he reported to Iggy. Looking at him, he saw that as well as being encased entirely in flames, he was covered with a bright sheen of pulsing white-yellow light, his magic. It was growing in intensity, becoming brighter until it hurt Numair's eyes and he had to look away, black starbursts playing behind his eyelids.

All the response he got as a distracted, "Mmhmmm."

Suddenly, the white-yellow light all but faded from the corner of his vision, but the flames kept flickering around Iggy. Immediately, he yelped, and doused the flames around him. "Ow," he said, jumping from foot to foot. "That hurt."

Numair lowered the stick, and looked at the boy in concern. "What happened?"

Iggy winced. "It wasn't working so I tried harder to make it burn until it eventually did. It burnt me, but not too badly. It's practically all faded now."

Numair ran a critical eye up and down the bird kid, searching for any burn marks. He found none. "Wonder why," he mumbled to himself. He glanced down at the stick he was still holding in his hand, and saw that a third of it was burnt. He chucked it away, hearing it crash through the brush as it landed. "You burnt the stick, too," he told Iggy.

"Yeah. I don't think I'll try that again though, not for a while," he said.

"I think that would be wise," Numair told him. He ran a hand through his hair, mentally going through what had happened again.

"I think we're done for today. We need to be getting back." Just as Numair was wondering why, Iggy said, "I'm hungry, and Max said she needed to talk to all of us." He rolled his eyes. "Which should be good. She's been acting strange – well, strange for Max – ever since she went into the Chamber, and the Voice has been giving her hell, too, about something."

They started to walk back to Corus. "The Chamber of the Ordeal does change a person. It isn't easy. It's not called an Ordeal for nothing."

"Yeah, but this is _Max_." The way Iggy said it, it was all the explanation needed. Numair couldn't help but agree.

He cleared his throat nervously, wondering if he had enough guts to ask. He was positive Iggy would have heard all the rumours running through Corus, and that he would know the truth. "So," he said, riddling with his tunic. "Do you know what Max came out of the Ordeal as? I mean, I've heard rumours, but some of them are pretty far-fetched."

Iggy shook his head. "Yeah, you people in Corus have quite the imagination." He snickered. "You should hear Max explode every time she hears one of the new ones that are floating around. _Priceless_."

"Oh," was all he said, unsure.

"Anyway, apparently the Chamber Ordeal is over, but she has some thing she has to complete for the Chamber, too. Some mission or something." Numair nodded, remembering the story of how Alanna ripped the veil in the Chamber and exposed Roger. "I mean, the Voice has been telling her she's destined to save the world since we could walk, but still." Iggy snickered. "That's what it was all about, apparently." He shrugged. "I don't think there's a name for whatever she came out as. She's not a knight. She's not a mage." He snorted at the idea. "She's just bird-kid Max."

"So its true then?" Numair asked. "They've been saying that, but I didn't really know . . . The most common rumour is that she's meant to save Tortall, and they've been calling her the Saviour or something. Did the Chamber pronounce her that, or did Corus?"

Iggy snorted. "Yeah. Max is apparently the Saviour. – well, at least according to nearly all of Tortall. She's not to happy about it, trust me." He laughed loudly. "_I_ think it's the funniest thing I've ever heard!"


	6. Chapter 6

I was just about ripping my hair out from frustration and stress. The Voice – or Chamber – King Jon, the Flock, everyone, wanted something from me. I was used to it, but this was getting crazy. One minute I had the Voice delivering bits and pieces that made no sense at all that were meant to "help" with the whole save Tortall thing, and the next I had the King asking us for pointers or to go over M-Geek weaknesses _again_, and the next second I had the Flock hounding me about going into Corus.

"Quiet," I snapped at them, my voice hard. I massaged my temples, and added, _You just shut up as well, I've got enough to deal with,_ for the Voice's benefit. I received no reply from anyone, either Voice in my head or real life Flock member.

"Sorry, Max," Nudge said meekly.

I sighed, feeling guilty. Damn them. "It's okay guys. It's just that the Voice, Chamber, whatever has been giving me hell. That's what I needed to talk to you about, actually," I said, grimacing. I didn't want to put this on them, the whole Save Tortall thing. But hey, I'm only one person, and maybe they could help me think of something, because so far Tortall was going to fall. Really, no one should have to deal with this. I really hated the Voice right about now – more so then before, that is.

Fang gave me an understanding look. I'd already filled him in. For someone who didn't talk at all, he sure can turn into a motor mouth when he wants to get something out of someone. I scowled back at him.

"Okay, guys, heres the deal," I said, turning to address the Flock. "Tortall's going to fall." No point in beating about the bush. Clean, easy, simple and straight to the point. I liked it. Maybe I should work like this more often.

"_What?_" Nudge shouted. "With the big war coming? Does that mean I'm going to die? And you guys, too? Oh man, that's so horrible. We wont be able to go shopping anymore if we die, and we wont be able to go for flies, or – or – or do _anything . . . _" she trailed off, a look of absolute horror on her face. Give her an Eraser to dispatch, no fear – but mention no shopping if she dies? Horrified from top to toe.

"Glad you realise that Nudge," I said sarcastically. "No shopping in the afterlife is _so___what I'm worrying about instead of trying to think of a way to _stay alive._" I swear, sometimes I just wanted to smack some sense into the girl. She was staring at me with wide eyes. Actually, the whole Flock was.

I guess my death predicament hit close to home.

"Okay, so Tortall's going to fall," I said, reinforcing the idea for Nudge's benefit. "But when I faced my Ordeal –" I grimaced, remembering "– the Voice told me I could save it. So I have to figure out a way to stop a horde of mutants from massacring the nation. Any suggestions?" I asked cheerfully.

They stared at me blankly.

I sighed. Great. There goes that plan.

"We've still got some time before the war starts. I'll think of something before then," I told them firmly. I wondered what would be helpful information. "In the vision I saw in the Chamber, they came from the air. It surprised the knights." I shook my head. "We're the only ones who have can fight in the air. And there were really too many for us," I grudgingly admitted. Okay, so I didn't like weaknesses. It's just one of my many traits that make me uniquely Max.

Iggy looked thoughtful. Turning to him, I said, "In the vision, you set yourself on fire, and then flew up into the swarm. Whoever touched you burnt." I looked at him, searching his face for any clue. I didn't know anything about this Firebird stuff – no one did. And it was up to Iggy to figure out, a fact that worried me. Extremely.

"Awe-some," he cooed, turning the word into two drawn out syllables. "So I _can_ do it! I can't wait to tell Numair, he thought I couldn't. And maybe I'll get it the second time –"

"What _are_ you talking about?" I demanded. Something in my tone must have made him realise he was treading on thin ice, and he stopped mid sentence. Smart move, buddy.

"Err," he mumbled. He scratched at his head. "I've been practicing. Before you get mad, I had _everything_ under control. I can control my fire. It's all – it's this sort of natural instinct. It's part of me. Like flying. And earlier today with Numair, I tried to set myself on fire without burning myself, but burn anything that touched my flames." He stopped rambling, looking sheepish, waiting for my explosion. And on any other day, I probably would have gone off at him. I didn't like what he did _at all_, but really, I had bigger things to worry about. And, I grudgingly admitted, it _was_ sort of convenient that he could already control and use his powers. We'd need all the help we could get if I wanted to save this gods cursed country.

I sighed. "Ig, I don't like what you did. Tell me next time. But honestly? I have bigger things to worry about then my delinquent pyromaniac." I grinned at him, and he grinned back, although his was more one of relief. Gee, I really had scared the heck outta my Flock. Ah, well.

"So, does anyone have any ideas about the mutant problem?" Fang asked our little group. Wow. A full sentence.

"Yeah," Angel said. We all store at her. She shrugged. "What?"

"Well?" I prompted. Gee, I really was desperate when it came to suggestions on the latest thing on the Voice's to-make-Max-do list.

Angel giggled. "We just have to get them before they get us," she said. They way she said it made it sound so, so easy. Seeing our blank, confused looks, she continued, "At the battle we can get them, but before that we can get Daine to go undercover and things like that into their camp. They've done it before. The animals will help."

What had the world come to? Sending animals on undercover sabotage missions. I missed the days when my life was even _relatively_ normal.

Iggy shook his head. "Tortall's almost as weird as we are. I mean, sure, we have wings and powers and are sort of freaks of nature, but really? With all the stuff that goes on here, with that lady knight person, and the Wildmage? By the Gods! It's a madhouse." He cackled manically.

"Hey," Gazzy piped up, sounding excited. "Can me and Iggy show you how Iggy's power works?"

I shared a glance with Fang. Understanding flooded between us. Grimacing, I turned back to the ecstatic Gasman and said, "Sure. It should be . . . _interesting._"

Well, lets just say that Iggy officially lived up to the title of 'pyromaniac'. Him and fire. Gee. It pretty much obeys him and does whatever he wants. It was crazy. But with the outlook of the upcoming battle,


	7. Chapter 7

"Daine," Numair murmured, feeling his wives hand stroking the hair back from his face. Her other hand gave his hand a firm reassuring squeeze as she said; "I'm here."

"Never will I go flying again as a human," he said, peeling open his heavy eyelids. "Never."

Daine laughed, relieved to see his eyes open again. Although Duke Baird had promised her Numair's health, she was still worried when he slept. Numair happily returned her loving kiss when she bent down to press her lips to his. "Ah, sweet," Numair sighed. "What happened? I've fair forgotten most of it."

"The flock handled the bandits while looked after you. Then Iggy suggested they fly you to the palace, because you'd die of blood loss if you didn't get there quick enough," Numair squeezed his wife's hand when a shudder ran through her body as she thought of the possibility of his death. "Max and Fang carried you. I flew as an Albatross. We landed in the training yards which were empty, thankfully. Then Duke Baird partially healed you out there before you were carried inside to be healed fully. Jon and Thayet have already seen me and the Flock about what happened. When you're better your to see him as well."

"Where'd they go?" Numair asked. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained, "The Flock."

"They went out to watch the pages train. They're like cornered cats here in the palace," Daine said.

"Okay," Numair said. They lapsed into an easy silence, Daine still stroking his hair. He smiled, enjoying the feeling. "Did you know," he said unexpectedly. "That the ladies at court used to stroke my hair like this. They pampered their hands with all sorts of creams and lotions but nothing compares to how soft your callused, hard working hands feel. Strange, isn't it? It's not even logical that your harder hands are softer then theirs."

Daine gave him a small smile. "Yes. I suppose so," she said.

Numair, seeing her expression sighed. "Daine," he whispered. "They're nothing compared to you. None of them made this everlasting impression on me like you do. I love you, Magelet."

"I know," she said, giving him a peck. "And I love you, Master Mage."

"Miss," a voice called as a young boy ran up the isle between beds in the infirmary towards Daine. Numair sent him a cool look. "Ah, Mrs. Salamìn," he amended. "You're needed in the training yards."

"Why?" Daine asked.

"Ah, well, the – the children, they are, well, challenging the Shang Wildcat. They insist they touch up on their skills, when really, they don't have any and the training master said you would relate to them, convince them."

Numair groaned. "I'll come with you, Magelet," he said.

"You should stay and rest," Daine stressed, stranding up.

"I'm coming," he said firmly, also standing. The world spun before Numair's eyes and he fell back onto the bed again. Luckily he was still in his breeches but someone – probably Daine – had removed his blood stained tunic and dressed him in another clean one. That saved changing clothes. He stood again and managed to remain upright, although the room still spun dangerously. Daine sighed and helped to support him. Together, with the page, they made their way out of the infirmary and towards the training yards.

**(A/N, I know Lord Wyldon isn't training master anymore but I don't know the replacement guy's name so we'll stick with Lord Wyldon. Besides, I know his personality. Don't flame me *cringes*.)**

When they got there, Max and her flock were standing facing Lord Wyldon and the Shang Wildcat. The third year pages stood around, watching what was going on with wide excited eyes.

"You cannot challenge a Shang without Shang combat skills," Lord Wyldon was saying briskly as Mage and Magelet walked towards them.

"But we have Shang combat skills. We'd be as good as her," Iggy said, pointing towards the Shang Wildcat. "Maybe even better."

"What's going on?" Daine called out, striding towards the conflict.

"We just want to learn some more, compare skills, touch up on our combat training, but he," Max said, gesturing towards Lord Wyldon, "Won't let us."

"I don't think your Shang," the Wildcat said, eyes roaming over the bird children.

_Max, _Daine mind-spoke the leader of the flock, _The Wildcat is exceptionally good in combat. This wont be like handling a couple of hill bandits. _

_Exactly my point. The bandits I could've dealt with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back. And this won't be a fight to the death. It would be like training, comparing skills, _Max replied, also mind-speaking.

"Except you'll get hurt," Daine exclaimed out loud, throwing her hands in the air.

"What?" Lord Wyldon asked.

"I have a connection to Max and her flock. Like with the People, err, the animals," Daine explained. "I forgot to mind-speak," she added with a self-conscious blush.

"We won't get hurt. I told you we have enhanced abilities," Max said.

"Is that so?" the Wildcat asked, raising an arched eyebrow. "Well then," she murmured and swung around with a roundhouse kick unexpectedly. Max caught her leg. "Yes," Max said coolly.

"Stop it, NOW!" Lord Wyldon roared. He turned towards the Shang Wildcat. "I assumed you'd have the common sense not to engage a sixteen year old girl in Shang combat! It seems I am mistaken," he snarled.

The Shang Wildcat looked at him. "You think I would've hit her? It was a test."

"Now will you let us?" Iggy demanded, exasperated.

"No," Wyldon snarled. "Yes," Max said. The Wildcat looked thoughtful.

"If we promise not to break you?" Max said.

The Wildcat grinned. "I don't think you'll be able to. Who trained you, if what you're saying is true?"

"The mage who made us used magic on a Shang to get him to train us. Then he erased the man's memory. I don't know his name," Max explained.

"Lord Wyldon?" the Wildcat asked. "Can we begin? I won't hurt them. You can call it off whenever you like, if you see a need."

"We are meant to be training the pages," he stated.

"And this will be very educational for them," Max said. She looked Wyldon up and down. "And – most definitely – you, as well." With that she turned and walked away from the little group with the flock at her heels.

Numair, who had been silent the whole time, told Lord Wyldon, "I'll stop it if it gets out of hand, My Lord."

"Very well," Lord Wyldon said. He turned and walked off, yelling at pages to stop standing there like stunned mullets, and telling them to stand outside the training yard. They all found seats on or against the wooden fence.

"You shouldn't, Numair," Daine said as she helped her weak love off the field as well. "You're drained."

"And my magic restores itself quickly, Magelet," Numair answered, trying not to lean on her small form too much. "I have enough to stop them if Lord Wyldon can't."

Daine sighed. She knew from experience how hard it was to make her husband change his mind once he'd set it on something. 


End file.
